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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24314317">Into the Breach</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_author_anonymous/pseuds/the_author_anonymous'>the_author_anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Defying the Darkness [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Multiple Inquisitors (Dragon Age), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, dragon age: inquisition AU, first chapter extended</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:02:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,537</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24314317</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_author_anonymous/pseuds/the_author_anonymous</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He is about to greet her when the sky crackles behind him.  The mark on his hand answers with a flash, accompanied by the now customary burning pain.  This time however the sensation extends almost halfway to his elbow, and he falls to the ground with a gasp.  Through his pain he notices the elf stagger, clutching at her wrist, though she manages to maintain her footing.  Her hand, He thinks hazily, it’s glowing too.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Defying the Darkness [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Adaar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter extended and formatting issues fixed!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Cold.  He is cold and surrounded by darkness, flickering green.  The air smells of dust and not-quite-rot.  His hand burns as he pushes himself to his feet.  Ancient rubble surrounds him – or is it new?  Reality flickers, the fallen stones become unreal and – </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There, ahead.  A woman on the hill, glowing with light and an insurmountable distance away.  He must reach her – why? – but the stairs before him seem endless.  Why must he reach her?  He knows there is a reason, but the burning in his hand gets worse with every step and – </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Cold chittering, the sound directionless in the dark unreality that surrounds him.  Where is it coming from?  Is it in front of him?  Is it behind?  He risks a glance back over his shoulder, doggedly continuing his upward climb.  Oh.  Of course, it would be spiders, creeping out of the mist to follow him.  That’s what this place does, it takes your fears and warps them to its use – </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The pain in his hand is almost unbearable, the climb has left him sore and breathless.  He is afraid, so very afraid.  He is going to die here, in this terrible place, but it is better that it’s him instead of the others – </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The woman reaches for him from the top of the hill.  The spiders are closing in, but he is so very close to her.  Only a few steps away.  He reaches out to grasp her luminescent hand and – </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A hand on his shoulder, a voice screaming in his ear as he is pulled backward.  No, No!  This is not how it was supposed to be!  If anyone is to die here it will be him, it cannot be her, she is too important – </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A flash of green, blinding, and he stumbles to his knees – </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Voices around him, crying out in alarm – </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Stone beneath his cheek as he falls forward, the hand gripped to his shoulder going slack – </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A throb of pain from his hand, burning, why is he burning, and – </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Blackness.  </em>
</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Adaar returns to consciousness slowly, aware only of the ache in his head.  The moist air around him soothes some of the throbbing pain.  <em>Where am I?  </em>He thinks groggily.  He tries to open his eyes, to move, but his body won’t obey him.  <em>Damn it all.  What happened?  </em>With an inward sigh he focuses on what his functioning senses reveal.</p>
<p>The air is cold, but still.  It smells of damp and mold, with a faint whiff of acrid smoke.  There is hard stone beneath his knees. <em> Kneeling</em>, his muddled brain supplies.  He is kneeling.  A distant drip-drip of water drifts into his awareness, along with the quiet shuffle of armor.  <em>Ah.  A prison then.</em></p>
<p>As his pounding headache begins to dissipate, Adaar idly wonders what he has done this time.  While he does not actively seek out trouble, being both qunari and a mercenary means he is not unfamiliar with occasional imprisonment – often for the most mundane grievances.  He can only hope that someone in the Valo-Kas is aware of his predicament, or he might find himself stuck here for quite some time.  What <em>was </em>he doing before all this?  He remembers . . . there was a job, some sort of –</p>
<p>
  <em>Green light reflects off mist, coming from nowhere and everywhere, how did they get here, how do they get out – </em>
</p>
<p>His left hand burns.  Adaar reels back, finally opening his eyes.  He blinks in the darkness, vision adjusting to the dim torchlight.  In front of him is a heavy door, closed tightly.  There are several guards standing at his periphery, all shining plate armor and cold steel.  Their weapons are drawn and pointed down at him.  <em>What happened? </em>He thinks desperately, clenching his left fist against his thigh.  There is sense of pressure, and the searing pain returns. </p>
<p>Adaar looks down in horror:  His hands are tied together, rope tight against his wrists.  His left palm sparks with an eerie green light, pulsating to some unknown rhythm.  He feels like every nerve in his hand is on fire.  After a few seconds the strange mark subsides to a dull glow, and the burning sensation is replaced by faint tingling.  </p>
<p><em>What the fuck happened?  </em>Adaar thinks again frantically, trying to control his terror.  <em>Calm down, calm down, now is not the time for panic.  </em>He takes a few shaky breaths.  <em>Shit.  What is this?  </em></p>
<p>Before he can come up with an answer, the door bangs open.  Two humans stand silhouetted in its frame, their silence speaking volumes where they do not.  Without a word they stride into the room.  One of them, a stern woman with short-cropped hair and a longsword strapped to her hip, marches behind him.  The other human is hooded, with delicate bird-like features and curious eyes.  She walks over to stand within his field of view some distance away, but he finds no comfort in her detachment:  She oozes a sense of quiet danger that sets his teeth on edge. </p>
<p>Adaar knows how to recognize an intimidation tactic, and he has to admit this one is very effective.   </p>
<p>Bootsteps behind him, followed by the creak of leather as the first woman looms over his shoulder.  With deliberate effort he manages to hold still.</p>
<p>“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now,” she hisses dangerously.  “The Conclave is destroyed.  The Divine is dead:  Everyone who attended is dead.  Everyone, but <em>you.  </em>Explain this to me.”  She walks around to crouch in front of him.  Roughly she reaches out and grabs his wrist, shaking his marked hand in front of him, “Explain <em>this.</em>”</p>
<p>The mark flares to life as she releases him, and Adaar stifles a gasp.  When the pain subsides, he looks into the woman’s steely gaze.  “I . . . can’t.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean you <em>can’t?”  </em>She growls, hand going to the hilt of her sword.</p>
<p>Adaar takes a deep breath.  “I can’t explain this,” he repeats calmly, “I don’t know what this <em>is.  </em>I don’t even know where I <em>am.</em>  At this point I know less about the matter than you.”</p>
<p>The woman’s face contorts in a snarl of rage as she draws her blade.  “You’re lying!”  She shouts, lunging forward. </p>
<p>Adaar braces himself, flinching backwards.  Of all the ways he thought he would die . . . however before her blade can contact his skin the shrouded woman steps smoothly in between them, a staying hand on his aggressor’s arm. </p>
<p>“Cassandra, no!  We need him!”  She says, pressing the other woman back a step. </p>
<p>Cassandra huffs, but lowers her sword.  “What we need is <em>answers, </em>Leliana.  The elf won’t talk, the others are not yet conscious.  This one,” she gestures at Adaar with her free hand, “Is our best hope of finding out what happened right now.”</p>
<p>Leliana releases Cassandra’s arm and turns to look at their captive.  “I agree.  But maiming him is not our best option right now.  He may be useful for more than just answers.” </p>
<p>Adaar looks between the two women.  He is a little perturbed about the necessity of the qualifier <em>right now </em>regarding his potential injury, but he pushes it to the back of his mind.  “Whatever you think I did,” He begins cautiously, “I’m innocent.”  <em>I think, </em>his brain adds traitorously.  <em>It’s not like I know what happened to . . . cause all that.  </em>Dead Devines and destroyed Conclaves are matters to be examined when he has more information. </p>
<p>Leliana cocks her head, eyes boring into him.  Adaar had found her disconcerting before:  Now that he is bearing the full brunt of her focus, she is even more unnerving.  He forces himself to hold her gaze.  <em>When you face down a predator you should never look away, lest they sense your weakness, </em>He thinks somewhat hysterically.   </p>
<p>“Do you remember?”  She says after a few seconds of silence, “How this began.”</p>
<p>Adaar sighs.  <em>No, </em>he doesn’t say, <em>but I would damn well like to.  </em>Instead he lets his eyes slip closed, reaching back through his memory.  “I remember . . .”   </p>
<p>
  <em>Swirling mist and flashes of light, a thousand tiny legs clambering over stone, except, no, they’re not tiny, not tiny at all – </em>
</p>
<p>He opens his eyes again.  “There were . . . things, chasing me.  I was . . . running.  To something, I think.  There . . .  there was a woman . . .”</p>
<p>“A woman?”  Leliana prompts, eyes glinting with interest.</p>
<p>Adaar shakes his head.  “I’m sorry.  It’s all . . . flashes.  I don’t really remember anything else.”</p>
<p>Leliana looks disappointed, but she nods.  Beside her Cassandra sheaths her sword, a contemplative expression on her face.  Given that their hostility towards him seems to have just dropped abruptly, Adaar is certain he must have passed some sort of test.  Even so, he doesn’t dare to speculate what the result of this will be.     </p>
<p>“Go to the forward camp, Leliana,” Cassandra finally says.  “Find out what troops we have left in the valley.  I will take them to the rift.”  She gently clasps the other woman’s shoulder. </p>
<p>“Are you certain?”  Leliana asks, bright eyed.</p>
<p>Cassandra nods.  “Yes.  Now go.  We will join you shortly.  Maker willing, we will be able to put an end to this madness.”</p>
<p>Leliana places her hand over Cassandra’s before pulling away.  She doesn’t look back as she slips out the door.  Cassandra rubs her face and sighs, a drawn-out exhalation of air.  Now that Adaar isn’t observing her from across a weapon, he notices that she looks . . . tired.  Like some great and terrible weight has settled unexpectedly on her shoulders. </p>
<p><em>She’s grieving, </em>he realizes, <em>they both are.  </em>She reaches down and pulls him up, his knees protesting as he stands.  <em>She said . . . she said the Divine died.  Everyone died.  I take it that’s not an exaggeration.  </em>He has so many questions.  For now, he can only ask one.</p>
<p>“What,” he pauses as she looks up at him, “what <em>did </em>happen?”</p>
<p>Cassandra sighs again and gestures for him to follow her.  “It . . . will be easier to show you.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Adaar ducks his head as he follows Cassandra outside, his curved horns narrowly slipping under the doorway.  The ground is covered with fresh snow, reflecting a sickly green that makes his eyes burn.  Soldiers rush around them, shouting words that are swiftly whirled away by the wind.  Cassandra leads him to the other side of the building and stops, looking up at the sky.  The green glow casts pulsating shadows on her face.  Adaar steps up beside her, hissing out a breath at the sight.</p>
<p>The sky overhead rolls with seething clouds.  Asynchronous flashes of purple lightning illuminate the undulating mass from within.  As if being pulled by some unseen source, the dark clouds swirl inward to the apparent epicenter of the storm.  It is there that Adaar stares with disbelief:  A great tear rends the sky, casting the valley below in an unearthly verdant light.  Its surface ripples, as if it is covered by a thin veil of shimmering silk.</p>
<p>“We call it the Breach.  It is a massive rift into the world of demons, and it grows larger by the hour,” Cassandra explains, clipped voice barely audible over the rushing squall.  She glances at him from the corner of her eye.  “It is not the only one, just the largest.  All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”</p>
<p><em>Explosion?  I suppose that explains how ‘everyone died,’ then, </em>Adaar thinks with growing horror.  It takes him a moment to find his voice.  “An explosion can cause <em>that?”  </em>He asks, startled at the breathlessness of his words.</p>
<p>Cassandra shrugs in reply.  “This one did.  We do not know how.  But if the Breach it left behind keeps growing, I fear it may swallow the world.  We must stop it, and soon.” </p>
<p>“And how do you plan to do that?”  Adaar questions, but Cassandra either doesn’t hear him, or doesn’t have a response.  <em>Fuck, </em>he thinks vehemently.    </p>
<p>There is a crunch of boots behind them, and Cassandra turns away.  Adaar remains where he is, attention rapt.  The Breach is both beautiful and terrifying, full of more raw power than he has ever seen.  There is also something strangely familiar about it, though he is unable to pinpoint why.  <em>Another damn hole in my memory.  At this point I suppose I should be glad I remember my own name.</em></p>
<p>“Seeker Pentaghast,” says a voice behind him, accompanied by the clang of a salute, “I’ve brought the second prisoner as requested.”</p>
<p>Adaar reluctantly pulls his gaze back from the sky.  As fascinating as the Breach is, there are more pressing matters that need his attention.  It will still be there later.  <em>Though it might be the only thing left, if Cassandra’s prediction is correct, </em>He reflects with a grimace.  <em>I really hope it isn’t. </em>With one final glance he returns to Cassandra’s side.</p>
<p>“Good,” She says as he approaches, “And what of the others?”</p>
<p>The man she addresses, clearly a templar from his armor, shakes his head.  “Still not awake Ser.  Shall I assist you to the forward camp?”</p>
<p>“That will not be necessary,” Cassandra replies curtly, “You must stay here and watch over our remaining guests.  I will escort these prisoners to the Breach myself.” </p>
<p>The templar salutes again, fist tight against his breastplate.  “Ser!  I will see it done.  Andraste guide you, Seeker Pentaghast.” </p>
<p>Cassandra nods, “Maker be with you, corporal.”</p>
<p>The corporal turns smartly on his heel, and Adaar regards their new companion curiously:  An elf, hands bound before her in a similar manner to his own.  She is lean, with short cropped brown hair that barely brushes the tips of her ears.  Intricate <em>Vallaslin</em> curls across her forehead and down her nose, lit pale green against her tanned skin by the fade-light in the sky.Her face is a mask of incomprehension as she stares at the Breach.</p>
<p>He is about to greet her when the sky crackles behind him.  The mark on his hand answers with a flash, accompanied by the now customary burning pain.  This time however the sensation extends almost halfway to his elbow, and he falls to the ground with a gasp.  Through his pain he notices the elf stagger, clutching at her wrist, though she manages to maintain her footing.  <em>Her hand, </em>He thinks hazily, <em>it’s glowing too.  </em></p>
<p>“You bear the mark, like me,” Adaar croaks when he his able to speak again.  The elf stares at him with wide eyes but does not respond.  Cassandra pulls him back to his feet, steadying him when he can’t find balance.</p>
<p>“Yes, she bears the mark,” Cassandra says.  “And two others, though they have not yet regained consciousness.”  She smiles wryly, “Were they awake they would be here as well.  Maker knows we are out of other options.” </p>
<p>Glancing down at his marked hand she sighs.  “Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads.  All of your marks, though yours seems to progress the fastest.”  Cassandra looks him in the eyes, gaze hard.  “It is killing you, and we do not have much time.  So, I will ask you once:  Will you help us?”</p>
<p> Adaar swallows, “You’re asking for my help to seal the Breach?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Cassandra replies.  She looks over to the elf.  “You as well.  What say you?”</p>
<p>Adaar nods, “Yes.  I will do what I can, though I don’t know how much use I can be.”</p>
<p>“That you are willing to try is more than enough,” Cassandra says.  “And you?”  She asks, staring at their other companion.  After a few moments of silence, the elf nods warily, and Cassandra sighs.  “I suppose that is adequate.  Come,” She gestures for them to start walking, “We must move quickly.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Adaar falls into step beside the elf as Cassandra shepherds them onto the road.  She is quiet as they walk, eyes focused dead ahead.  He wonders if her silence is more fear or reticence:  She is difficult to read.  <em>Perhaps I can have more success than the Seeker in coaxing her to speak.  </em>It is easy to tell that Cassandra prefers a direct approach, all bluntness and threats of violence.  In this situation Adaar believes gentleness may yield better results.  It helps that this is an approach he excels at. </p>
<p>“It seems we are bound together in this endeavor, wherever our path may lead,” He says quietly.  “Strangers all.  But we should at least know the names of those who fight beside us, yes?  I am Adaar.” </p>
<p>The elf gives him a suspicious look, and he smiles down at her benignly.  “Lavellan,” She finally replies, returning her eyes to the road.</p>
<p>Adaar inwardly congratulates himself.  “Well met, Lavellan.  Though I wish it were under clearer skies, I am grateful to have your company in this.” </p>
<p>She huffs slightly but otherwise doesn’t respond.  It’s not quite the breakthrough he was looking for, but it’s still progress.  Cassandra directs them to turn down another road, this one wider and lined by more people, many of them civilians. </p>
<p>Adaar has borne the brunt of suspicious glares and subtle hatred his entire life.  Most people try to hide their fear:  Occasionally an individual or a small group take it upon themselves to express their loathing.  Sometimes it progresses to sharp words or even violence, but he has become adept at redirecting anger, both theirs and his own.  It is one of the hazards of being a qunari in the South.  He is practiced in ignoring the sting of injustice that accompanies that thought. </p>
<p>Nothing could have prepared him for the outright hostility these people exude.  All of them glare as he walks past, many stopping in the middle of their tasks to watch him go by.  They mutter amongst themselves, and occasionally someone from the back of the crowd shouts threats that are barely audible over the cry of the wind.  Lavellan shrinks into his shadow, her face a mask of bitter determination.  <em>If the Breach doesn’t kill us this lot definitely will, </em>he thinks grimly.</p>
<p>Cassandra pulls forward to stand at his left, placing a guiding hand on his elbow.  Adaar cannot tell if it is deliberate, but she has neatly interposed herself between her charges and much of the angry mob.  <em>I sincerely doubt she ever does anything without a purpose</em>, he thinks, feeling a small surge of gratitude.</p>
<p>“They have decided your guilt,” Cassandra says quietly, “they <em>need </em>it.  They are mourning the Divine.  We all are.”  She blinks down at the ground for a moment.  “There was a chance for peace between the mages and templars, perhaps the only chance.  Divine Justinia brought their leaders together.  And now they are all dead.” </p>
<p>Cassandra sighs, tugging him to a halt as they cross onto a bridge.  She walks a few paces towards the massive gate that occupies the other end of the causeway and stops.  “We must think beyond ourselves,” she mutters, and Adaar isn’t certain if he was meant to hear.  She pulls a knife from her belt. </p>
<p>Adaar instinctively steps forward so that he is standing slightly in front of Lavellan.  She gives him a strange look as he moves, and he can feel her eyes boring into the back of his head.  Cassandra turns around.</p>
<p>“There <em>will </em>be a trial.  That much I can promise.”  She walks over and grabs his hands, cutting through his bindings with a smooth flick of her wrist.  Adaar watches in surprise as she does the same for Lavellan.</p>
<p>“Come, it is not far.”  She turns back to the gates.</p>
<p>“Where are you taking us?”  Lavellan asks quietly.  Cassandra looks over her shoulder in shock, a reaction Adaar finds himself mirroring.  <em>She speaks again</em>.  <em>Do you see, Seeker?  Kindness can work as a motivator where threats do not.  </em>Cassandra just shakes her head and begins walking forward.   She motions for them to follow.</p>
<p>“The mark on your hands, it is connected to the Breach.  Whatever caused the explosion must have given it to you.  We think, we <em>hope,</em> that you will be able to use this connection to seal it.”  Cassandra sighs, coming to a halt a few feet from the great wooden doors.  “Or perhaps the marks will make things worse, we do not know.  But we are out of options, and we are out of time.  So, we are going to test them on something <em>smaller </em>than the breach.”</p>
<p>“These other rifts you spoke of?”  Adaar asks.</p>
<p>“Yes.  Unfortunately, there are many.  Or perhaps fortunately, for us.  As I said, it is not far.”  She looks back at Lavellan again.  “Is that a sufficient explanation?”</p>
<p>Lavellan does not look happy, but she nods.  “Good,” Cassandra says.  She turns to one of the soldiers posted on the bridge, who have been regarding them curiously.  “Open the gate, we are heading into the valley!” </p>
<p>The solider salutes with a sharp “Ser!” before relaying the command.  With a mighty creak the heavy doors swing open, exposing the snow laden path beyond. </p>
<p>Cassandra prods them into a run as they make their way up the first hill.  Adaar keeps his speed carefully measured, his longer legs allowing for a gentler pace than his companions.  <em>If these rifts truly open into the Fade, I imagine this task will not be as simple as Cassandra describes, </em>He muses.  <em>The Fade means demons, and there will likely be several of them near the rift that have already escaped.  They will have to be dealt with before any experimentation with the marks.  I fail to see how a Seeker and two unarmed prisoners will be enough for that task.</em></p>
<p>Any consideration of voicing his concerns is forgotten as the sky crackles again, the Breach flaring to life.  Even though he is expecting it, the sudden pain forces him to his knees as his hand sparks in return.  When it has passed Cassandra helps him to his feet.  On his other side Lavellan is pale, and she is clenching her marked fist so tightly Adaar fears she will hurt herself.  She puts a steadying hand on his elbow when he lists towards her. </p>
<p>“The pulses are coming faster now.”  Cassandra glares up at the tear in the sky.  “The Breach is growing larger.  There will be more rifts now, more demons.  Hundreds died in the explosion; how many more must die for this?  Maker, what purpose does this serve?” She growls angrily.</p>
<p>“This explosion . . . it killed so many people,” Lavellan says, eyes fixed on the breach.  “How did we survive something like that?”</p>
<p>If Cassandra is surprised to hear the elf speak again, she buries it quickly.  Instead the Seeker looks pensive, which Adaar considers a marked improvement over the futile rage she had been projecting moments before.  Whether Lavellan asked out of curiosity or because she too sensed Cassandra’s mood Adaar doesn’t know.  Either way, he’s really starting to like her.       </p>
<p>“After the explosion, we sent soldiers into the ruin to look for survivors.  There were not many to be found,” Cassandra begins.  “Not long after being deployed, a few of them returned.  A rift had opened in the middle of the wreckage, only long enough for the four of you to step out.  Apparently, you fell unconscious almost immediately.  As they approached you, they saw one thing before the rift closed:  A woman, still in the Fade.  Though further questioning on the matter revealed they did not see her in any detail.” </p>
<p>Cassandra shuffles in her armor restlessly.  “How you got into the Fade, and who the woman was, I do not know.  But being there is likely what saved your lives.”  She looks up at him abruptly, “You are well enough?  We must continue.”</p>
<p>“I . . . yes,” he replies, his mind already trying to fit this new information into the puzzle of his missing time.  “Please, lead on.”</p>
<p>Cassandra pushes them into the same pace as before, but he is not really paying attention anymore.  He soon finds himself running beside her.</p>
<p>“Exactly how big was this explosion?  If it was as you describe it must have devastated more than just the Conclave,” he asks.</p>
<p>“Big enough,” She grunts, focused on the path ahead.  “The entire valley was laid to waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes, where the Conclave was being held.”  They reach the top of the first hill, another bridge in sight.  “You will see for yourself soon enough.”     </p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>The burst of energy that comes roaring out of the sky to hit the bridge is a surprise to everyone but Adaar.  Cassandra slows as they approach, shouting for the soldiers ahead to make way.  There are several carts lined up to one side of the bridge, and as they get closer Adaar can see that many of them are packed with a wide array of weaponry.  The soliders seem to be dragging them back to town. </p>
<p><em>Recovered items from the Temple of Sacred Ashes?  Perhaps these are the weapons that were confiscated before the start of the Conclave.  </em>Adaar starts in surprise at the thought.  It was small, but some of his memory seemed to have trickled back in.  <em>Oh, of course, It must be.  We were hired to – </em></p>
<p>He feels a familiar pull deep in his chest.  It is not the same the burn of the mark on his hand, but it has the same energy.  It is an energy he has only ever felt in his interactions with the Fade, and one he instinctively associates with wild and powerful magic.  He realizes he has been feeling twinges of it for a while, whenever the mark flares, but the sensation is always dwarfed by the pain that follows.  <em>Fuck, something’s coming, of course the Breach is leaking Fade magic – </em></p>
<p>But it is already too late for him to warn anyone:  They are halfway across the bridge when blinding light streaks out of the sky and shatters the stone beneath their feet.  The bridge crumbles, huge blocks of stone tumbling onto the icy river below, and Adaar falls with them.  The drop steals his breath away, his ears roaring as the ground quickly approaches.  <em>Roll with it, you idiot, do you want a broken leg? </em> He thinks frantically, trying to remember his training. </p>
<p>His feet smack into the ice, followed by his knees as he clumsily tries to roll forward.  The impact is jarring, but he manages a graceless tumble that leaves him dazed and largely unharmed.  With a muffled curse he pushes himself to his feet.  Cassandra is already standing, looking no worse for wear.  Lavellan is picking her way around the rubble towards them, bleeding from a small gash on her cheek.</p>
<p>Several soldiers have also fallen to the ice:  Some of them look gravely wounded.  Already the soldiers who remained on the bridge are rushing down to assist their comrades.  One of the carts is caught in the rubble:  It has toppled over, the boxes it contained splintered and spewing their contents among the debris. </p>
<p>“Are you injuried?”  Cassandra calls, turning to face him.  “We must continue on; the soldiers will handle this.”</p>
<p>As she speaks the ice behind her begins to bubble a sickly dark green.  Adaar watches with horror as a dark shape rises out of the seething mass.  It coalesces into a tall hooded figure, faceless, with long fingers tipped in sharp claws.  <em>A shade, </em>he thinks with dismay, arm reaching back for a weapon that isn’t there.  Lavellan hisses and drops into a defensive position.</p>
<p>“Cassandra,” Adaar begins, but the Seeker is already whirling around, drawing her sword. </p>
<p>“Stay behind me,” she commands, settling her shield across her forearm.  She rushes forward to engage the shade with a snarl. </p>
<p>Adaar watches Cassandra push the creature back with a bash of her shield.  <em>She’s quite good at this, </em>he muses as the battle unfolds.  <em>Perhaps I was unjust in my earlier concern.  She could probably take on whatever demons this rift of hers threw at us with nothing but sheer will.  </em></p>
<p>“Adaar,” Lavellan whispers urgently, drawing his attention away from the fight.  He glances over at her, then down at their feet with growing dread.  In front of them the ice is bubbling again, and he can see another dark shape lurking just beneath the surface.  <em>Shit.  </em>He looks around frantically for something to use as a weapon, and – <em>there.  The boxes.  </em>His eyes meet Lavellan’s.  Without a word they both scramble backwards towards the wreckage of the bridge. </p>
<p>Adaar jumps over a pile of stone and skids to a halt in front of one of the more intact chests.  Lavellan choses another box a short distance away, digging through it far too blithely for a person with her hands in a container full of sharp objects.  Adaar pries the lid off his own box.  <em>Please have something useful, </em>he begs, throwing a few broken items onto the ice.  There is an eerie gurgling sound behind him as the Fade creature finishes forming.  His hands close on smooth wood.  <em>Please let it be – </em></p>
<p>He whips the staff out of the box and twists himself around, falling backwards.  A guttering burst of flame shoots from the tip, hitting the new shade square in the chest.  The creature screams as it catches fire.  <em>Not as strong as my own, but this will have to do.  </em>Adaar pulls himself up on the rubble and sends another gout of fire at the demon. </p>
<p>The shade screams again in rage and starts pushing towards him.  Adaar continues his barrage as it gets closer, but even burning is not enough to deter it.  <em>Damn, it’s getting too close.  I won’t be able to use the staff if it gets in range to attack.  </em>He takes a step backwards, careful not to slip on the ice as he doggedly maintains his onslaught.</p>
<p>He is almost within range of its claws when there is a blur of motion to his right.  Lavellan vaults off some nearby rubble and slams into the shade’s side, knocking it away from him before jumping out of reach.  She has a curved dagger in her left hand, and her right is curled empty behind her back like it is accustomed to holding another. </p>
<p>As soon as she falls back Adaar whips the staff around, loosing another ball of flame.  It wings one of the shade’s arms, which slowly starts to disintegrate.  Lavellan uses his attack as a distraction to circle around the creature.  With a silent cry she leaps into the air, burying her blade deep in its back.  The shade issues one final scream before it turns to dust, particles floating slowly upward before fading out entirely. </p>
<p>Adaar wants to sag in relief, but the battle still rages on as Cassandra continues to fight her own opponent.  He turns to Lavellan, intent on offering the Seeker their help, but the elf is gone.  <em>Shit, she vanished.  </em>He starts running towards Cassandra, ignoring the disappointment that settles in the pit of his stomach.  <em>I really hope she’s coming back.  </em></p>
<p>Adaar comes to a stop a few feet from the ongoing fight.  He watches the Seeker intently:  He needs to find an opening where he can hit the damn thing without setting Cassandra on fire as well.  After a few more swings, Cassandra hits the shade with her shield again, sending it backwards a few paces.  <em>There, that’s as good an opening as I’m going to get.  </em></p>
<p>However, Cassandra is potentially still within blast range of the staff.  Adaar curses and reaches to the sky instead.  A jagged line of chain lightening zips into the shade with pinpoint accuracy.  Cassandra looks at him with surprise.  Before the creature can shake off its momentary paralysis and attack the distracted Seeker, Lavellan appears behind it.  It is as if she walks out of thin air:  She has acquired another dagger from somewhere, and without hesitation she slams both weapons into its unsuspecting back. </p>
<p>The shade dematerializes with the same haunting screech as the other, until the three of them are left panting on the ice alone. </p>
<p>Adaar lowers his staff.  “It’s over,” he breathes, a smile taking over his face.  Fighting demons isn’t his idea of fun, but damn it feels good to call on his magic again.  Especially after the harrowing experiences of the last . . . hour.  <em>Events are happening rather quickly now, </em>He thinks numbly. </p>
<p>Cassandra doesn’t seem to share in his delight.  “Drop your weapons, <em>now!</em>”  She growls, face contorted in rage.  She raises her blade to face him.</p>
<p>Adaar’s own anger sparks to life:  This is the second time the Seeker has pointed a sword at him.  <em>I’m on your side, damn you!  Can’t you see I’m trying to help?  I can’t fucking do that if I’m not armed!  </em>He takes a deep breath and pushes his emotions back.  <em>Calm.  It will be hard to help her if you get into an argument now.  I doubt the Seeker is very forgiving.  </em></p>
<p>“You need to trust us!” Lavellan spits out before he come up with a placating response.  She raises her daggers, eyes hard.  “How many demons are we going to encounter before reaching this rift?  They <em>will </em>attack us, and I will not stand by and wait for death because <em>you </em>won’t allow us to defend ourselves!”</p>
<p>Cassandra looks furious, her eyes locked on Lavellan.  For a moment Adaar fears she is going to attack the elf.  Instead she sighs explosively, lowering her sword.  “You . . . are correct,” she admits begrudgingly, “We will likely come across more demons.  I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless.” </p>
<p>She sheathes her blade before swinging her shield over her back.  “I should remember that you agreed to come willingly,” her eyes flick to Adaar, “both of you.  That is already more than I would have expected from anyone else.” </p>
<p>“Here,” Cassandra pulls two vials off her belt and extends one to each of them.  Lavellan stares at her cautiously before stowing her daggers and accepting the offering.  Adaar rolls the vial in his palm, watching the red liquid swirl inside.  “Use it sparingly.  It will not heal you if you are greatly wounded, but it may help with more minor injuries.”</p>
<p>“Seeker,” Adaar begins, pocketing the potion, “You must have known we would encounter trouble on the road.  Why did you bring us out here on your own if you didn’t intend for us to fight?”</p>
<p>Cassandra starts trudging over to the riverbank.  “The majority of our soldiers are at the forward camp or fighting.  Those who are not can’t be spared from their tasks:  Our forces are stretched very thin.”  She clambers up the slope and pulls first Adaar, then Lavellan back onto the road.  “As I said before:  we are out of options.  We are on our own for now.”</p>
<p>Cassandra’s shoulders are tense, but she starts walking up the path without another word.  She doesn’t look back at them.  Adaar and Lavellan exchange a glance.  <em>Well.  I suppose that’s as close to an apology as we’re going to get.  </em>Adaar nods and moves to follow the Seeker, Lavellan’s footfalls trailing just behind him. </p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Cassandra wasn’t lying when she said their destination was nearby, though it takes longer that expected to reach it.  They encounter more shades as they hurry up the road, which they manage to dispatch with relative ease.  The wraiths they find further along are more of a nuisance:  Adaar curses as he dodges another ball of spirit energy.  He’s already been hit once, which would be a minor concern if not for the startling throb his mark had given on contact.  Whatever the thing on his hand is, it is tied to the Fade in a way he finds discomfiting.</p>
<p> He sends a burst of flame towards the last wraith, which is floating some distance away over higher ground.  <em>These things wouldn’t be so difficult to get rid of if it weren’t for those damn barriers they throw up.  </em>Lavellan, in a now signature move, jumps out of stealth behind it.  Her twin blades make short work of the wraith, barrier and all, and it finally fades from existence. </p>
<p>Adaar leans on his knees to catch his breath.  <em>This shoudn’t be so hard.  </em>In front of him Cassandra is already making her way up the stairs.  With a sigh he straightens and starts lumbering after her.  His palm twinges and he clenches his fist, but the mark stays silent.  <em>I feel like this thing is draining me.  I should have more than enough stamina to take on a few fucking wraiths.  </em></p>
<p>Cassandra cocks her head, settling into her familiar jogging pace.  “We are getting close to the rift,” she calls back, “I can hear fighting.”</p>
<p>“Who’s fighting?”  Adaar pants, trying desperately to keep moving. </p>
<p>“You will see soon.  We must help them.  Then, we will see what your marks can do.” </p>
<p>They crest the top of the hill and Adaar’s eyes are immediately drawn to the rift.  It is approximately his height, a shimmering tear in the veil that hovers several inches above the ground.  It has opened inside the ruins of what must have been a very large stone building, though he cannot tell from the rubble what it once was. </p>
<p>Several people are arrayed around the it, all fighting shades that the rift must have recently disgorged.  Adaar sees a flash, and one of the shades is encased in ice.  <em>A mage? </em>He thinks, intrigued.  <em>An apostate, most likely.  I don’t believe I’ve seen any other mages among the Seeker’s forces.  </em></p>
<p>As they make their way down the hill Adaar can see that the mage is an elf, further inciting his curiosity.  The rest of those fighting are human soldiers, apart from one rakishly dressed dwarf wielding a very large crossbow. </p>
<p>The soldiers look tired but seem to be fully capable of dispatching the remaining shades on their own.  Cassandra still draws her blade with a snarl, entering the fray with zeal.  Adaar manages to get a few shots off, but his assistance isn’t necessary.  Within seconds of their arrival the last shade is discorporated, and the battlefield is silent but for the strange hum that emanates from the rift. </p>
<p>Adaar startles when a hand grabs his wrist, and the elven mage steps up beside him.  “Quickly, before more come through!”  The elf shouts.  He takes Adaar’s marked hand and thrusts it towards the rift. </p>
<p>The strange hum gets louder, and the rift seems to spasm.  A crackling arc of Fade energy springs from its depths to connect with the mark.  Adaar gasps but doesn’t pull away.  It feels like something is pulling at his hand, as if the rift has reached out a thousand tiny tendrils and wrapped them around his bones.  It doesn’t hurt, not like the flares from before, but the sensation is decidedly uncomfortable.  The humming grows in volume and pitch, the sound just on the cusp of pain. </p>
<p>With one final crescendo the rift contracts, and his hand is released with surprising force.  Adaar stumbles backwards, watching wide-eyed as the tear in reality mends itself with a bang. </p>
<p>He stares at the empty space where the rift once was, fascinated.  <em>That’s . . . impossible.  I’ve never heard of magic that can exert such control over the Fade.  </em>He turns to face the other mage.  The elf is all but dressed in rags, leaning comfortably against an ancient staff he has planted firmly in the snow.  He is completely bald, with shrewd eyes that regard Adaar with pleased amusement. </p>
<p>“How . . . what did you do?”  Adaar asks. </p>
<p>The elf smiles.  “<em>I </em>did nothing.  The credit is yours,” he replies.</p>
<p>Adaar looks down at his hand.  “You mean my mark.  But how did you know it could do that?  How did you know <em>how </em>to do that?” </p>
<p>If anything, the other mage’s smile broadens.  “Whatever magic opened the Breach must have given you that mark, yes?”  Adaar nods.  “I theorized that it could, in turn, be used to seal it.  Thus far, it seems I was correct.” </p>
<p>By now they have gained an audience, as Cassandra approaches with Lavellan not far behind.  The soldiers observe from a cautious distance, with the dwarf lurking on their fringes.  Cassandra stops beside Adaar, staring at him with blatant awe.  Adaar shifts uncomfortably under the Seeker’s esteem. </p>
<p>“So, their marks could close the Breach,” she says wonderingly, looking to the other mage for confirmation.</p>
<p>“Possibly,” he concedes, “However I will not make any claims until we have tested it further.”</p>
<p>“I . . . I can do this as well?  Close the rifts?”  Lavellan asks quietly.  She absentmindedly massages her marked hand, eyes focused on the empty air.</p>
<p>The elven mage shifts to face her.  “I believe so,” he says gently, drawing her attention back to the group, “Though you are not as strongly connected to your mark as our qunari friend appears to be.” </p>
<p>“So, we have not one but <em>two </em>people who can close the Breach now?”  A voice cuts in. </p>
<p>Adaar glances over his shoulder:  The dwarf has detached himself from the soldiers and is swaggering his way over to their small group.  A smirk is plastered on his face beneath smiling eyes, though their humor is replaced by trepidation when his gaze flicks over to Cassandra.  He comes to a halt beside the elven mage, putting Lavellan firmly between himself and the Seeker, and jauntily swings the crossbow onto his shoulder.</p>
<p>“Well, that is good to know.  And here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.  Or until all of Thedas was swallowed by the Breach, whichever came first,” he continues cheerily, ignoring the thunderous scowl Cassandra is directing at him.  “Ah, but where are my manners?  Varric Tethras, rogue and writer extraordinaire, at your service.”  He directs a flippant half-bow at Lavellan, and then again to Adaar.</p>
<p>Lavellan raises an eyebrow at his antics.  “That’s a nice crossbow you have,” she comments drily.</p>
<p>Varric grins up at her.  “Oh, Bianca?  She’s one of a kind!  You, my friend, have an eye for the finer things in life.” He pats the crossbow lovingly.  “She’ll come in handy when we head down into the valley.”</p>
<p>“<em>We?”  </em>Cassandra interjects, affronted, “There is no ‘we,’ <em>Varric.  </em>I will be taking them to the forward camp, <em>you </em>will be doing nothing!” </p>
<p>Varric frowns up at her.  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Seeker, but your soldiers aren’t in control of the valley anymore.  You <em>need </em>me.”</p>
<p>Before Cassandra can escalate the argument, Lavellan sighs and sticks her hand in Varric’s face.  “I am Lavellan,” she says loudly.  Varric stares at her, and her hand falters.  “I believe it is customary for you to shake it,” she adds uncertainly. </p>
<p>The dwarf startles, then grasps her hand with a smile.  “So it is.  Well met, Lavellan.” </p>
<p>Adaar hides a smile of his own.  <em>That was well played.  </em>“My name is Adaar,” he says, holding out his hand for the dwarf to shake.  “It is good to meet you, Varric.”</p>
<p>The elven mage huffs beside him.  “I am Solas, if there are to be introductions.”  He gives Adaar and Lavellan an assessing look.  “I am glad you still live,” he continues, abruptly changing the subject.  <em>Another redirect, </em>Adaar thinks with amusement.  <em>It seems a confrontation between Varric and Cassandra is one to be avoided at all cost.  </em>  </p>
<p>Varric snorts.  “Solas means he kept those marks from killing you,” he tells Lavellan conversationally.</p>
<p><em>Did he, now?  </em>Adaar looks at the other mage curiously.  <em>How did he know what to do?  He didn’t answer my question before.  </em></p>
<p>“Thank you, Solas,” Adaar says, “you seem to know a great deal about them.”  He cringes a little at how obviously he is fishing for information, but the elf doesn’t seem to mind. </p>
<p>“I am an apostate,” he explains, “My travels have taught me many things:  I know far more than any Circle mage.  I only did what was necessary.”</p>
<p>“In any case,” he continues, “You did not need much help from me.  The marks have not progressed to the extent I originally feared they would.”  He looks at Adaar.  “Of the four affected, you were in the most danger.  I spent much of my time at your side:  It seems the mark has integrated with you more readily than the others.”</p>
<p>Adaar frowns.  His mind is already forming a theory to explain why, but he would be interested to know the other mage’s thoughts.  “Why would I be more affected?”  He asks.</p>
<p>Solas shrugs.  “I do not know, but perhaps your magic is similar to that which created it.”</p>
<p>Adaar nods.  <em>That aligns with my own thinking, though it brings more questions than answers</em>.  <em>What sort of magic are we dealing with?  </em>  </p>
<p>“Similar?”  Cassandra ventures cautiously.  She’s eyeing Adaar warily, and her hand twitches like it wants to grasp her sword.  Adaar crushes his flare of annoyance.  <em>Whatever happened to trust, Seeker?</em></p>
<p>Beside him Solas shakes his head.  “Seeker, the magic here is unlike any I have ever seen.  Adaar is a mage, yes, but it is hard to imagine any mage having this power.”</p>
<p>Adaar feels a surge of gratitude to the other man but remains tense.  <em>Will she accept this?  Or has the deck become too stacked against me already?  </em>But his worry is unfounded:  Cassandra accepts the explanation without comment.  Her hand settles back at her side, and she shoots him an apologetic glance before her face resumes its mask of professionalism. </p>
<p>“Very well.  We have performed your first test, and now we know what these marks can do.  We must get to the forward camp quickly,” she commands.</p>
<p>“Lead the way, Seeker.  We’ll be right behind you,” Varric says brightly.</p>
<p>Cassandra growls under her breath but stalks off without a word.  Adaar raises an eyebrow at Varric, and the dwarf waves him off. </p>
<p>“Ah, I know, I know,” he grumbles, gesturing for the others to precede him.  “What’s the saying, ‘don’t poke the bear?’  It’ll be fine, I promise.” </p>
<p>“The path to our goal will be long,” Solas cautions.  “Whatever lies between you, it will hold until we are through.  We all need to work together, if we are to survive this.” </p>
<p>Varric squints up at the sky.  “That’s a pretty grim outlook, Chuckles.  I would have expected more enthusiasm from you.  Great big hole in the sky, demons pouring out, the Fade closing in on reality . . .  I know some mages who would be absolutely thrilled.”  Solas ignores the dwarf and walks after the Seeker. </p>
<p>Varric rolls his eyes, “Well.  At least Bianca’s excited.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter will be in Lavellan's perspective! </p>
<p>Comments?  Questions?  Let me know!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Lavellan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story has . . . kind of gotten away from me.  I planned on having 5 chapters with about 25,000 words total but . . . looks like it'll be more than that, whoops.  I had to split this chapter into two parts, it got too long lol.  Anyway, here's chapter 2.1 I guess.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lavellan creeps silently through the snow, keeping hidden among the rocks.  Her left hand is wrapped loosely around one of her daggers, ready to draw it at the first sign of danger.  Normally her right hand would be preparing caltrops or clever little traps to throw into the melee of battle.  Right now, she consciously holds it away, keeping the volatile scar on her palm as far from her body as she can in stealth. </p>
<p>It has been . . . a very strange day, one that looks to be far from over.</p>
<p><em>If Keeper Deshanna could see me now, working with the shemlen I was sent to spy on.  </em>She peers cautiously over the ridge.  More shades and wraiths are loitering on the ice below:  She takes note of their number and position before retreating down the craggy slope.  <em>Demons.  Such vile creatures.  To simply hear the mages speak of them does not do them justice.</em></p>
<p>She jumps from the rocks and back onto the path.  Her new companions have congregated farther down the hill, and she walks quickly towards them.  Cassandra looks up from her conversation with Solas, raising an eyebrow expectantly.  The Seeker has an officious, inflexible demeanor that Lavellan finds irritating, but Cassandra is technically in charge of their little party.  Their earlier argument over weapons notwithstanding, she has yet to lead them astray.  For now, Lavellan is willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.</p>
<p>“Well?”  Cassandra asks as she approaches.</p>
<p>“There are more demons ahead, as you feared,” Lavellan replies.  She scratches a rough map into the snow.  “They seem to stay in the same area unless provoked.  If we’re smart, we may be able to take them all out at once.” </p>
<p>Solas peers at the ground.  “I will cast a barrier on us before we engage.  It would be more prudent for me to assist someone else afterwards, rather than to assign me an opponent of my own.”</p>
<p>Lavellan watches the other elf out of the corner of her eye.  There is something about him that is strangely off-putting.  He clearly isn’t Dalish, but he also doesn’t behave like any flat-ear she has ever met.  And then there is his knowledge of the Breach, and their marks, which he hadn’t explained beyond ‘knowledge acquired through his wandering’ . . .</p>
<p>Or perhaps he is just odd, and she is being overly suspicious.  <em>I’ve been surrounded by shems and Fade creatures since I woke up, of course I’m paranoid.  I’ll try to reserve judgement until after this danger has passed.    </em></p>
<p>Adaar nods to Solas.  “If you are willing, I would welcome the assist,” he says.  “I fear the mark is starting to interfere with my magic.  It is becoming increasingly difficult to call upon the mana I need for effective spells.”</p>
<p>It is the first time he has mentioned this, and Lavellan looks up at him in concern.  The big qunari has been a steady presence throughout their journey.  For all his imposing appearance, he is unflinchingly considerate and kind in a way Lavellan is unaccustomed to from strangers.  She already respects him, and she barely knows the man, partly for the constant courage he displays.  Even now, with his mark killing him at an accelerated rate and his magic failing, Adaar refuses to stand down and let others fight for him. </p>
<p>Her mind flashes to a mountain in the forests her clan calls home, the giant shell of a sleeping volcano.  Its dark grey slopes rise high above the tree line, almost touching the clouds.  As a child it had scared her, looming ageless and uncaring in her nightmares.  But one day she decided to climb to the top.  Instead of the scarred stone she expected, Lavellan found a placid lake in the basin where the peak had once stood, surrounded by pines that clung determinedly to the crater wall.  The indomitable exterior she had once feared contained an abundance of life, and it saddened her realize how badly she had misjudged it.      </p>
<p>Lavellan can’t help but draw a comparison between the mountain and her new friend, both in appearance and character.  <em>Yes, I think the metaphor is rather apt, if more poetic than I am usually prone to being.  I wonder how many people see your height and your horns and fail to see the compassionate man inside?  Far too many, if you have lived among humans your whole life, </em>she thinks bitterly.</p>
<p>“If you’ve been having trouble big guy, what didn’t you say anything before?”  Varric complains.  The dwarf is showy, but Lavellan thinks she could grow to like him.  He’s cradling that ridiculous crossbow in his arms, finger near the trigger.  She wasn’t joking earlier when she told him it was nice, but she’s dying to know how ‘Bianca’ even functions.  “That’s the sort of thing we should know <em>before </em>a fight, not after.” </p>
<p>“For once, I agree with Varric,” Cassandra says stiffly.  “I cannot allow you to fight if you will be a liability.”</p>
<p>Adaar shrugs.  “I can still fight for now,” he defers, “but that may change in the future.  I did not mention it before because I honestly did not think it would become an issue.  Besides,” he smiles gently, “You can hardly just leave me behind to do battle.  I need to get to the forward camp, and eventually the Breach.  We will deal with more demons before we get there, and I will not leave you to face them alone.  I just wanted to make you aware of the eventuality.”</p>
<p>Cassandra gives the qunari and assessing look.  “Solas, your opinion?”  She asks. </p>
<p>Lavellan barely stops herself from rolling her eyes.  <em>You really don’t trust him, do you Seeker?  Adaar just exposed his vulnerability to you, an act of trust I doubt I would offer in his place.  You need to have faith that he knows his own limits.</em></p>
<p>Solas leans against his staff, staring at Adaar curiously.  “I believe he is correct,” the elf begins, “though this reaction you speak of is unexpected, Adaar.  Earlier I speculated that your magic was similar to that which created the breach:  Perhaps this is closer to the truth than I realized.  But this is a conversation for another time.”</p>
<p>He turns to face Cassandra.  “Adaar is still fully capable of fighting, and I will inform you if I believe this changes in the future.  We must continue onward regardless, Seeker.”</p>
<p>“Very well.”  Cassandra looks back at the map.  “I will engage the shade on the left.  Varric, if you can handle the second one – “</p>
<p>“Always happy to oblige, Seeker,” Varric says.</p>
<p>Cassandra nods.  “Good.  Lavellan, you will – “ </p>
<p>“If you give me enough lead time I can sneak around and attack the wraith on the bank,” Lavellan interjects.  “If I can reach the demon before it throws a barrier up, we will be down one opponent before the fight even begins.” </p>
<p>Adaar smiles at her.  “That trick of yours is quite effective, I can see why you favor it so much.  Between Solas and I we should easily be able to clear the remaining wraiths, and then we can be on our way.” </p>
<p>“And we will have spent more time planning this attack than executing it,” Cassandra sighs in frustration.  “It doesn’t matter.  Let us deal with these demons, before we waste any more time.”</p>
<p>“Our caution will prove beneficial in the end, Cassandra,” Solas comments as they start moving toward the lake.  “Do not count this time as lost:  Rather, think of it as time spent ensuring we will all still be capable of dealing with whatever may be defending the Breach.” </p>
<p>Cassandra draws her sword as the path begins curving downward to the ice.  “I hope you are right.  Maker knows we cannot change the past if you are wrong.” </p>
<p>Lavellan slips away from the group before she can hear if someone else replies.  Silently she jumps down onto the ice:  All the demons are in the same locations she had last seen them.  <em>They don’t seem to have any . . . will.  I know not to expect them to behave like people or even animals, but this stillness is too unnatural.  What makes a demon, and why?  I will have to ask one of the mages later, </em>she thinks as she skirts unnoticed around a wraith to reach the opposite bank.</p>
<p>She climbs up behind the wraith on the hill just as Cassandra charges around the corner with a cry.  As if they were waiting for this signal all the demons begin to move.  Her own target rears back, aiming a blast of spirit energy at the Seeker.  <em>Not today, </em>Lavellan thinks viciously, striking out with her daggers.  Without its barrier the wraith offers her blades all the resistance of fresh snow, melting away as she carves through to the other side. </p>
<p>By now the others have begun their assault as well, volleying arrows, flame, and ice into their enemies.  The other wraiths manage to throw up barriers, but not before taking significant damage from the two mages.  Cassandra’s demon is flagging under her onslaught:  The other shade is rapidly swarming over to where the three men have clustered.  Varric fires at it repeatedly with a grimace, but it is clearly getting within the range of his crossbow. </p>
<p>Lavellan hops back down to the ice, racing after the shade.  Just before she can reach it, Adaar spreads a hand to the sky, calling down lightning again.  Varric sends two more bolts from Bianca into its paralyzed form before it disintegrates with a howl of rage.  Lavellan turns sharply, making her way over to the wraiths instead.  She slides under a burst of spirit energy, coming to her feet between them.  With a snarl she plunges her daggers into the side of one of them:  Simultaneously, the other gets slammed by two gouts of fire.  Behind her Cassandra gives a furious shout, dispatching the last demon with a mighty swing of her sword. </p>
<p>Lavellan stands there, breathing heavily, as the rest of the party joins her on the ice.  It is strange to look around after such a heated battle and see so little carnage.  It’s almost disappointing in a way, as if all her effort bore no results.               </p>
<p>“A well-executed plan,” Solas says as he approaches.  “It seems we make an effective team, Seeker.” </p>
<p>“Yes,” Cassandra agrees, “let us see if we can duplicate the results.  Onward, to the forward camp.” </p>
<p>Lavellan falls into step beside Varric as they follow her up the stairs.</p>
<p>“Sooo,” Varric says, drawing out the vowel, “<em>are </em>you innocent?”</p>
<p>Lavellan sighs.  “I don’t remember,” she says shortly. </p>
<p>“Uh-huh.  And what about the big guy?”</p>
<p>“He doesn’t remember either,” Adaar calls back from his place beside Solas. </p>
<p>Varric snorts.  “Well that’s inconvenient.  Should have spun a story.” </p>
<p>“That is what <em>you </em>would have done,” Cassandra snips.  She raises a hand to stop them, and peers cautiously around a rock.</p>
<p>“<em>Of course,</em> it’s what I would have done,” Varric responds once they start walking again.  “It’d be more believable than this shit.  Less likely to get me killed, too.” </p>
<p>Overhead, the Breach crackles to life.  Lavellan flinches, gripping her hand tightly and –</p>
<p>And there’s no pain, just an uncomfortable throbbing ache accompanied by a small flash of light.  <em>What just happened?  </em>She thinks, flexing her hand.  <em>What changed?</em></p>
<p>Ahead of her Adaar has stopped and is staring down at his mark in confusion.  “I . . . it didn’t hurt,” he says incredulously. </p>
<p>“Hm.”  Solas closes his eyes.  “Your mark contains a large amount of energy, which is likely the source of your pain.  When the Breach flares, your mark flares with it.  All that energy, with nowhere to go.  That is, until you used it to close the rift.”  He opens his eyes again.  “You called on a massive amount of power to do so.  I imagine it has not had enough time to build up to its previous level.  Perhaps closing rifts is a way to slow the progression of the marks?”  He muses thoughtfully.</p>
<p>“This is . . . fascinating, but can we please have this conversation as we continue to the forward camp?”  Cassandra sighs.  Adaar looks guilty, and gestures for her to keep walking. </p>
<p>“That still doesn’t explain why our elf friend here didn’t feel anything either,” Varric says as they fall back in line.  “Unless she’s been running around sealing rifts without us noticing.”</p>
<p>Lavellan looks down at the dwarf startled.  He offers her a shrug in reply.  Solas turns his head and gives her a questioning glance. </p>
<p>“I . . .” she says, looking at Adaar, “I felt something.  When Adaar sealed the rift.” </p>
<p>“You felt something?”  Adaar prompts.  The mage is facing forward, but Lavellan can still feel the weight of his attention.  “What did you feel?”</p>
<p>“I – “</p>
<p>“More demons ahead!”  Cassandra cuts in, already slipping the shield off her back.  “They have seen us.  There will be no planning this time, get ready!”</p>
<p>Solas throws a barrier over them just before the first shade collides with the Seeker.  Varric and Adaar are already firing volleys at the wraiths farther up the hill when Lavellan steps back.  Without thinking she slips into stealth, coming up alongside Cassandra’s opponent and cutting a thick slice across its side.  A blast of spirit energy hits her back and she grimaces.  <em>Andruil guide my hand, I am tired of these fucking wraiths!</em></p>
<p>With a snarl Lavellan jumps away from the demon as Cassandra pushes it backwards and starts running up the hill.  She tags the other shade with one of her blades as she leaps onto the ledge where the offending wraith is hovering.  The wraith rears backwards, one of her daggers already slicing into its chest.  Lavellan stabs through its barrier viciously until it dematerializes under her hands.  She whirls to face the other wraith, but it is already gone.  The shades have disappeared as well, and she is alone with her companions again. </p>
<p>“Are you alright?”  Adaar asks warily.  “You look a little . . .”</p>
<p>Lavellan sheathes her daggers as the mage tapers off.  “I am fine,” she says stiffly.</p>
<p>“I was leaning a little more towards ‘unhinged,’ but we can go with that,” Varric mutters.  Lavellan glares at him.  “What?  You got a little scary there at the end.  You’re looking better now!” </p>
<p>“I’m fine,” Lavellan repeats.</p>
<p>“We keep moving,” Cassandra commands, cutting off any further commentary. </p>
<p>They line up behind the Seeker, Lavellan inserting herself at Adaar’s side this time.  <em>This is not because you struck a nerve, </em>she thinks in Varric’s direction.  <em>Liar, </em>another part of her mind taunts, <em>you got angry and lost your control.  Don’t fool yourself into believing they wouldn’t notice.  </em></p>
<p>“You said you felt something when I closed the rift?”  Adaar asks again. </p>
<p>Lavellan jumps despite his quiet voice.  <em>It seems I have become an easily startled deer.  I need to center myself, before this gets out of hand.  </em>She peers up at the qunari cautiously but sees no judgement in his eyes for her sudden nervousness.   </p>
<p>“Yes, I felt something,” she replies, turning her gaze back to the road.  “It was like . . . have you ever put your hand in a river, and found the current to be stronger than you expected?” </p>
<p>Adaar nods.  “Yes, I think I know what you mean.”</p>
<p>“It felt like that,” Lavellan continued, “As if some force had grabbed my hand, and was pulling it towards the rift.  No, grabbed isn’t the right word, it . . .” she sighs, “Something was pulling me, and it felt like I couldn’t move away.  Except I could sense there was nothing there, and when I focused, I could move my hand wherever I wanted to.”  Lavellan shivers.  “I don’t really look forward to repeating the experience, if I’m honest.” </p>
<p>“It was similar for me,” Adaar says with an odd expression on his face.  “Distinctly unpleasant.  It seems we are doomed to reliving it many more times, though perhaps you can close the next one.  That much is satisfying, at least.” </p>
<p>Lavellan clenches her fist.  “I can understand why my mark might react to closing the rift, but why would it also not cause me pain when it flares?  If its energy is what causes it to hurt, what have I done to get rid of it?” </p>
<p>“Perhaps,” Solas interjects slowly from behind them, “It would be better not to think of them as individual marks, but as a single mark shared by multiple people.”</p>
<p>“How would that even be possible?  It doesn’t make sense, Solas,” Cassandra says, not pausing in her steady march up the hill.</p>
<p>“The Fade doesn’t always operate by the same rules as our reality, Cassandra,” Adaar says gently.</p>
<p>“Indeed.  Space and time work differently in the Fade:  It is not impossible for something so intangible to exist in multiple places at once,” Solas adds.  “Think of the rifts:  They appear in different locations and seem to be separate constructs.  But all of them lead to the Fade.  All are caused by the same tear in the veil.”</p>
<p>“The principle of the matter lies in the connection:  We already know that the marks are connected to the Fade.  Now it seems they may be connected to each other as well.” </p>
<p>“I . . . see,” Cassandra says dubiously, in a tone of voice that discourages further attempts at explanation.   </p>
<p>“It is a fascinating theory,” Adaar agrees.  “I believe you have the right idea, Solas.  Do you think – “</p>
<p>“O<em>kay,” </em>Varric interrupts, “let’s save the rest of this discussion for later, shall we?  I don’t think my brain can handle any more talk of <em>metaphysical Fade connections </em>right now.  Let’s just focus on the nice, sensible demons alright?”</p>
<p>Solas huffs indignantly, and Adaar chuckles.  Lavellan privately agrees with Varric, though she would very much like to hear the explanation again.  Just slower.  And when there is less at stake.</p>
<p>“One problem at a time,” Varric sighs, as the top of their climb comes into sight.  “Maker, I’m going to need a drink when this is over.” </p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>The second rift they encounter has planted itself right in front of another massive gate.  The heavy oak doors are firmly shut, which Cassandra seems grimly thankful for when she tells them the forward camp is just beyond.  Lavellan is surprised by how few soldiers she sees.  They battle the demons with the same determination she witnessed at the other rift, though they seem far more worn down than their compatriots had been.  This does not bode well for the chances of reaching the Breach in one piece, but Lavellan keeps that thought to herself.</p>
<p>The arrival of their little group heralds a fresh wave of demons, which spew forth from the ground around the rift.  By now their party is practiced in fending them off, falling easily into the roles each of them has accepted.  Solas casts a barrier while Cassandra draws the attention of the nearest shade.  Adaar freezes several wraiths with chain lightening, an advantage quickly followed up by a few crossbow bolts from Varric.  Lavellan melts in and out of sight, surprising demons with a quick slice from her daggers before falling into stealth again. </p>
<p>It works very well:  They do, as Solas said, make an effective team.  As soon as the last demon is gone Adaar looks across the battlefield to Lavellan.</p>
<p>“Your turn!”  He shouts over the thrum of the rift. </p>
<p>Lavellan nods sharply, taking a deep breath.  She raises her marked hand to the rift as she had seen Adaar do, steeling herself.  <em>Is there something else I need to be doing?  </em>She wonders when the rift doesn’t react.  <em>I’m going to look foolish if this doesn’t work soon.  </em>She glances over at Adaar, who just nods encouragingly. </p>
<p><em>Ok, fine.  Let’s try this.  </em>Lavellan clears her mind, until the only thing left is the steady hum of Fade energy.  <em>I want to close this rift, </em>she thinks deliberately.  She remembers how her hand feels when the Breach flares, and how it felt when Adaar closed the rift before. </p>
<p><em>Yes, that!  </em>She gasps when her mark sparks to life.  <em>I want to close this rift!  </em>A beam of crackling green light shoots from the rift and into her hand, pulling her forward a step.  Lavellan grimaces and plants her feet, holding her ground.  Her mark throbs and the rift throbs with it, letting out a high-pitched whine with growing intensity.  Just as the noise starts to get unbearable a wave of force knocks her off her feet.</p>
<p>Lavellan watches numbly from the ground as the rift folds in on itself with one final <em>crash!  </em>Silence falls, until it is broken by joyful yells from the remaining soldiers.  <em>I did it.  I closed the rift.  </em>She stares at the empty air in shock until Adaar pulls her to her feet.</p>
<p>“The rift is gone!”  Cassandra shouts.  “Open the gate!” </p>
<p>One of the soldiers salutes the Seeker.  “Right away Lady Cassandra,” he says happily. </p>
<p>“We are clear for the moment,” Solas says as he approaches.  He looks at Lavellan with a small smile on his face.  “That was well done.” </p>
<p>Lavellan feels her own lips tugging up and huffs.  “It wasn’t as easy as you made it seem,” she tells Adaar.  “It required more will than I thought it would.” </p>
<p>“Easy or not, you sealed it.”  Adaar grins down at her.  “How do you feel?”</p>
<p>Her smile is full-blown now.  “You were right.  Despite the unpleasantness, the results are <em>very </em>enjoyable.” </p>
<p>Varric comes over to stand with them as the gate creaks open.  He raises and eyebrow at Lavellan’s excitement.  “Well that was just as showy as the last time,” he comments drily. </p>
<p>“Are you complaining?”  Lavellan asks. </p>
<p>Varric chuckles.  “No, but I reserve the right <em>to </em>complain.  People are going to accuse me of embellishing the story when I write a book about this shit.”</p>
<p>“That would be because you <em>always </em>embellish, Varric,” Cassandra says.  She studiously ignores the dwarf’s mock gasp of affront.  In front of them the gates finish opening with a thud.  “I doubt you will do differently this time.  Come, Leliana should be waiting for us.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Lavellan starts shrinking into Cassandra’s shadow as they make their way through the forward camp.  There are soldiers everywhere, running around with grim faces and relaying orders to each other.  Again, there are far fewer people than she expected.  She reasons that most the Seeker’s forces must be fighting deeper in the valley, but it seems odd to leave the encampment so ill defended.</p>
<p>A woman brushes past her without even looking up, and Lavellan shies away from the contact.  She’d gotten so used to working beside her new companions that she had almost forgotten about being captive.  <em>And now here I am again, surrounded by humans on all sides, </em>Lavellan despairs quietly.  <em>We’d better move on quickly, Seeker, or I might not be continuing this journey with you at all.</em></p>
<p>Cassandra leads them unerringly to a small command center in the middle of the camp.  It was clearly thrown together in a hurry:  Several chests still lay open at the edges, displaying their contents to the world.  At the middle is an unstable looking table, covered in maps and charts.  The woman who had been with Cassandra in the prison – <em>Leliana, </em>Lavellan reminds herself – is hunched over it, deep in thought. </p>
<p>She takes a moment to appreciate how the Fade-light plays across Leliana’s high cheekbones.  The woman is a dangerous person to be attracted to, yes, but Lavellan’s heart has always beat faster at the thought of risk.  In any case, she has no intention of pursuing one of her captors, let alone a shem.  But she accepts the observation as a welcome distraction.</p>
<p>Behind Leliana is a man she does not recognize.  He is dressed in chantry robes, pacing in tight circles with a pinched expression on his face.   Lavellan grimaces.  <em>Another battle brewing, then.  I almost wish it were demons this time.  </em>Adaar sighs behind her, which Lavellan takes to mean he sees the impending conflict as well.</p>
<p>The man catches sight of them, halting his impotent patrol.  “Ah, here they come,” he announces snidely as the approach. </p>
<p>Leliana’s head shoots up.  Her eyes land on Cassandra and she smiles.  “You made it!”  She exclaims, walking around the table to stand beside the Seeker.  She glances at the other members of their party.  “Chancellor Roderick, this is – “</p>
<p>“I know who they <em>are,” </em>the Chancellor cuts in.  He gestures at Adaar and Lavellan aggressively, glaring at Cassandra.  “Why are they not in chains?  I want them bound immediately!  As Chancellor I <em>order </em>you to take them to Val Royeaux for execution!”</p>
<p>Cassandra draws herself up with a frown.  “<em>You </em>order <em>me?”  </em>She asks dangerously, a hand on her sword.</p>
<p>“<em>I </em>represent the Chantry, Seeker,” Chancellor Roderick spits furiously.  “With Justinia gone<em>, </em>I’m in charge, and I want these . . . <em>people </em>locked away like the prisoners they are!”  Cassandra steps towards him with a snarl.</p>
<p>“This is not what Justinia would want,” Leliana intervenes, placing a warning hand on Cassandra’s shoulder.</p>
<p>Roderick throws his hands up.  “Justinia is <em>dead!  </em>Andraste knows we all wish she weren’t.  Our <em>priority </em>now should be electing her replacement and obeying <em>her </em>orders on this matter.”</p>
<p>“Isn’t closing the Breach a more pressing issue?”  Adaar points out mildly. </p>
<p>The Chancellor whirls on the qunari furiously.  “<em>You </em>brought this on us in the first place!  Your opinion is of no consequence,” he snaps.  Adaar raises his hands disarmingly, but Roderick is already turning back to the two women.  He looks ready to continue his argument, but his fury evaporates under Leliana’s disapproving stare. “Call the retreat, Seeker.  Our position here is hopeless:  We will have to deal with this Breach at another time,” he sighs wearily.</p>
<p>Cassandra taps her hilt with a finger, glancing up at the swirling sky.  “We cannot retreat, not now,” she starts slowly, her own ire temporarily quelled.  “Even if I wanted to, there are too many troops left in the valley.  We must get to them regardless.” </p>
<p>Roderick rubs at his forehead.  “And how are you going to that?  The closer you get to the Temple, the more demons you will encounter.  It is an impossible task, Seeker, even for you.”</p>
<p>“Not all hope is lost,” Leliana murmurs.  She walks back around the table, pulling one of the maps out from beneath the stack.  “Here,” Leliana motions for Cassandra to join her, pointing at one corner of the paper.  Lavellan shuffles backwards when the Seeker steps away, fitting herself into Adaar’s shadow instead.  He gives her a small smile and doesn’t comment. </p>
<p>“There is a pass that will take you through the mountains.  It is the quickest way into the valley and should be relatively free of demons,” Leliana continues, eyes flashing with concern.  “I sent soldiers to scout the path earlier, but I have yet to hear back.  Something may have happened to them, and whatever danger they found will be waiting for you as well.  I can’t tell you that going this way would be any better than making a direct push into the valley, but you should know the option exists.”</p>
<p>“This is hopeless,” Chancellor Roderick sighs. </p>
<p>Cassandra leans over the table.  “That remains to be seen,” she mutters, a finger tracing the ink that outlines the pass.  As if coming to a decision she retracts her hand, turning around.  “How do you think we should proceed?”  She asks bluntly.</p>
<p>Lavellan shares a look with Adaar as the Seeker stares at them.  <em>Is she really asking us?  </em>Lavellan thinks incredulously.  Adaar raises his eyebrows at her and shrugs.</p>
<p>“You’re asking <em>them?”  </em>Chancellor Roderick sputters, echoing Lavellan’s disbelief.  “They are your prisoners, Seeker!  They do not get a say in this:  They should not be here at all!  What reason could you possibly have for seeking the opinions of this . . . <em>oxman</em>, and his elf conspirator, over the counsel of the Chantry <em>you </em>serve?”</p>
<p>Lavellan has had enough of this foolishness.  “<em>Shut.  Up,” </em>she snarls, walking forward until she is toe-to-toe with the Chancellor.  “We are here to help, of our own free will, whether you believe that or not.”  The man’s face is starting to turn an interesting shade of pink, but his shock holds his tongue.</p>
<p>“Our purpose is to close the Breach, a goal <em>you </em>have been hindering since we arrived,” she continues.  “So, unless you have something constructive to add to this discussion, <em>be silent.</em>”  Roderick gapes down at her furiously.  Lavellan ignores him and glances back at Cassandra, who looks torn between amusement and disapproval.  “We should take the mountain path, Seeker,” she says, turning her back on the Chancellor. </p>
<p>“I agree,” Adaar says when Cassandra settles on disapproval.  She turns her frown on him but Adaar just smiles.  “We all know what’s at stake, Cassandra.  If we work together, the mountain path is the best way to reach our goal.  Besides,” he adds with a nod to Leliana, “If there is a chance to help these missing scouts, we should take it.”    </p>
<p>Cassandra sighs, but accepts his logic.  “Very well.  If this is the path we’ve chosen . . . Leliana,” she says, looking at the woman in question, “Our forces still need to push forward to reach the Temple.  Bring everyone left in the valley.  Everyone.”</p>
<p>“Understood, Cassandra,” Leliana says.  “I will see you at the Temple.” </p>
<p>Cassandra nods sharply and begins leading their party away from the war table, much to Lavellan’s relief.  <em>I’ll take demons over shem politics any day.  </em>Lavellan glares at the Chancellor as she walks past.  <em>Sanctimonious prick.</em></p>
<p>Roderick finds his voice again as they approach the edge of the camp.  “On you own head be the consequences, Seeker!”  He calls out to Cassandra’s retreating form. </p>
<p>“Believe me, Chancellor,” Cassandra replies without stopping, her mouth set in a grim line, “Good or bad, I will accept responsibility for whatever happens next.” </p>
<p>~*~</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter will also be in Lavellan's perspective.  I'll introduce the other Heralds in chapter 4, don't worry!  </p>
<p>I played around with this physics of the anchor a bit, I kind of like the idea of all of them being connected.  Plus I wanted to explain why the anchor stopped flaring after closing the first rift lol, I don't think they covered that in game.  </p>
<p>My life just got super busy, so posting isn't going to be on a schedule, but I'll do it when I can!</p>
<p>Comments?  Questions?  Just let me know!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Lavellan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The journey to the Breach continues . . .</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one . . . is not my favorite, but it took me forever lol.  On the bright side I finished my first rotation, so enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lavellan peers carefully into the mouth of the tunnel.  She had been less than thrilled when Cassandra informed them that the pass they were taking was an old mining complex:  She much preferred dense forests or open skies to the stifling pressure of being underground.  But she had still volunteered to scout ahead when they reached the base of the mountain.  Lavellan can faintly hear creaking ladders as her companions begin their own ascent, but she tunes them out and focuses on the task at hand. </p>
<p>The tunnel is dark, a gaping maw of strange echoes and inexplicable draughts of damp air.  Lavellan waits for her eyes to adjust, keeping still.  When the blackness fades to a dim blue-grey she strains to see into the chamber beyond.  A shadowy figure stands motionless in the center of the room, almost blending into the background – a shade.  After a few moments a wraith sways into view, a slight flicker of green from behind a pillar. </p>
<p><em>A shade and a wraith at least, but there are likely more hidden by the other pillars, </em>Lavellan thinks.  Heavy boots crunch through the snow as Cassandra comes to crouch beside her.  Lavellan holds up two fingers and wiggles them.  Cassandra nods, jerking her head backwards.  Together they retreat to the ladder, where Adaar is pulling the last of their party onto the walkway. </p>
<p>“I saw two, but I’d estimate there are actually four or five,” Lavellan whispers.  “Only one shade in line of sight from the entrance.  Engaging from a position of strength will be tricky:  I can eliminate one hidden demon easily, but the rest will focus on you when we attack.”</p>
<p>Cassandra sighs.  “We must be cautious, but we cannot delay too long.  We must reach the Temple of Sacred Ashes before our ground troops are overwhelmed.”   </p>
<p>Adaar hums thoughtfully.  “Seeker, can you draw the attention of the shade Lavellan saw?” </p>
<p>“Of course,” Cassandra replies, “you have a plan?”</p>
<p>“More or less:  Mostly it involves tactics our group has already used.  The tight space limits our movement, and low visibility will make ranged attacks difficult.  If you can draw them into the main chamber with your attack, and Lavellan takes out any wraiths, the rest of us will be able to engage from outside the tunnel.  One of Solas’ barriers should protect us long enough to deal with any hidden threats.” </p>
<p>“A simple plan,” Solas says when Adaar finishes, “But a good one.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m a big fan of the whole ‘if it isn’t broken don’t fix it’ thing.  Count me in, big guy,” Varric adds. </p>
<p>Adaar looks at Lavellan, and she shrugs.  “You already know that I have a favorite maneuver.  The tactics our team has been using have worked so far:  If you’ve found a way to use them in smaller spaces, I’m inclined to keep using them,” she tells him. </p>
<p>“Then we are all agreed,” Cassandra says.  “Let us proceed, then.”</p>
<p>Lavellan and Cassandra take up positions at either side of the tunnel mouth, their companions arraying out behind them.  Cassandra catches Lavellan’s eye and nods.  Lavellan feels a barrier spell settle over her shoulders as she slips soundlessly into the mine.  <em>Once more into the fray, </em>she thinks, ducking past the shade to reach a wraith on the far side of the chamber.  As she expected, there are several more demons hidden behind the pillars that line the room.  She catalogues their locations carefully, readying herself behind her chosen target.</p>
<p>Lavellan holds until the attack starts, but she doesn’t have to wait long.  Cassandra rushes into the mine, shouting challenge and banging sword against shield defiantly.  Instantly the demons begin moving towards her, abandoning their hidden positions.  Lavellan feels a rush of satisfaction as she leaps after her wraith, plunging two daggers into its back before it can summon any spirit energy.  Adaar’s plan is <em>working.</em></p>
<p>Her target melts into the air.  Lavellan doesn’t wait for the rest of the demons to notice its demise:  She dodges through crossbow bolts and fizzing balls of ice to eliminate the next wraith with a few quick jabs.  In a matter of minutes, all the demons that had populated the antechamber are reduced to little more than motes of dust.</p>
<p>Cassandra’s boots echo sharply as she proceeds to the other end of the room, sword drawn.  With a wordless signal for the others to follow she steps deeper into the darkness beyond.  Lavellan shivers when she crosses the threshold.  Her hands grip tightly around her daggers.  <em>Don’t look back, </em>she tells herself sternly, forcing her fingers to relax.  <em>There will be sunlight on the other side, too.  </em></p>
<p>When a few minutes of stumbling around in the near dark reveals no further demons, Cassandra begrudgingly allows Varric to light a torch.  Lavellan cautiously puts away her blades.  The additional light helps diminish her anxiety, but the close walls of the sharply winding tunnel still make her feel trapped.  She tries to focus on measuring her breathing.</p>
<p>Adaar slows down as they walk up yet another flight of stairs until Lavellan is beside him.  “Are you alright?”  He asks quietly.</p>
<p>Lavellan crushes the reflexive urge to lash out.  “I will be,” she replies honestly.  “I’m not fond of small spaces.  How’s your magic?”</p>
<p>Adaar summons a ball of flame in his hand, then waves it away with a grimace.  “Still functioning, though I’ll be happy when I can call upon it normally again.  Well,” he waves his marked hand lazily through the air, “I suppose ‘normal’ may not be an option anymore.  Perhaps I should call it ‘more settled’ instead.”</p>
<p>He sighs wistfully.  “But enough about that.  I wondered if I might have a word with you about what happened with the Chancellor.” </p>
<p>“You don’t approve?”  Lavellan asks in a neutral tone.</p>
<p>“It is not how I would have handled the situation, but that does not mean you were wrong.  Direct confrontation did seem to be most effective, in this case.  Honestly, I was surprised you spoke up at all:  That’s what I wanted to ask you about.” </p>
<p>Adaar looks down at Lavellan curiously.  “You retreated into yourself as soon as we entered the encampment.  All your focus, all the energy you had after closing the rift, immediately went into making yourself seem invisible.  I was certain you had returned to the sullen, watchful creature you were when we met.”  Adaar huffs a small laugh, “Let me be clear:  I’m not judging you for it.  I understand the urge to fade into the background, I really do.  But you went from silent observer to openly hostile without clear provocation, so I just wanted to know:  what changed?” </p>
<p>Lavellan carefully considers her answer.  <em>Because he spoke to you like you were a lesser being.  Because he called you ‘oxman’ and I saw you flinch, though you tried to hide it.  Because even though we barely know each other you have firmly settled into the category of ‘friend,’ and I am very protective of the precious few friends I have.</em></p>
<p>“He was rude,” Lavellan finally says, “And he was in the way.  We’d still be there arguing if someone hadn’t shut him up.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Adaar says. </p>
<p>Ahead of them Cassandra motions for silence, indicating more demons ahead.  Varric grumbles as he extinguishes the torch.  Lavellan reaches for her daggers but stills when Adaar’s large hand settles on her shoulder.</p>
<p>“And Lavellan?  Thank you.  You’re a good friend.”</p>
<p>Lavellan is suddenly glad for the darkness, as Adaar can’t see the flush that darkens her cheeks.  He gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze before removing his hand.  Lavellan buries her embarrassment to be dealt with later and draws her blades.  Demons are so much easier to confront.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Sunlight is a welcome sight after battling through the old mine, even tainted as it is by the green hue of the Breach.  A portion of Lavellan’s tension melts away as she steps outside.  Swirling wind lifts her short hair in gusts, and her heart sings at the crunch of snow beneath her feet.  She wants nothing more than to close her eyes and bask in the open air.  The corpses around the exit preclude any celebration.</p>
<p>Cassandra stares numbly at the bodies.  Lavellan feels a wave of sympathy:  She may not get along with the Seeker, but these soldiers were under her charge.  Even though she did not issue the order that led to their demise, she clearly feels responsible.  Lavellan had not thought her to be a compassionate woman, but the raw concern evident on Cassandra’s face raises her estimation of the Seeker’s character. </p>
<p>“That . . . that cannot be all of them,” Cassandra whispers, hand tight around her hilt. </p>
<p>“There may be more ahead, Seeker,” Varric says gently.  “We should move on; we can’t help these poor bastards, but we may be able to help the others.”</p>
<p>Cassandra nods slowly.  “Yes.  You are right, though it feels wrong to leave them this way.”</p>
<p>“Our priority is the Breach, Cassandra,” Solas says.  He regards the sky, leaning casually against his staff.  “We cannot afford to be distracted now.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, but I’m leaving the Breach to our friends here,” Varric says, gesturing between Lavellan and Adaar.  He throws Solas a sharp-edged grin.  “I get there’s nothing we can do, but suggesting this is just a distraction is pretty cold, Chuckles.” </p>
<p>Solas frowns at the dwarf, but Adaar steps in before he can reply.  “We can send people to collect the bodies once this is over.  I don’t like the idea of walking away like this any more than you do, Cassandra, but we are running out of time.  We can mourn their loss and make certain they are laid to rest with respect after the Breach is dealt with.” </p>
<p>Cassandra closes her eyes for a moment:  When they open, they are full of steel.  Her posture visibly straightens with resolve.  Lavellan fights the urge to snap to attention, and she cannot deny the air of command that settles over Cassandra like a second skin. </p>
<p>“Solas is right.  The dead can wait, the Breach cannot.  If there are survivors, we will find them if we can, but our purpose is clear.  We must move on without further delay,” Cassandra instructs.</p>
<p>Varric inclines his head.  “Whatever you say, Seeker.  We’re right behind you.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Cassandra says, “Onward, then.”  She marches down the stairs without a backwards glance. </p>
<p>“I did not intend to offend you, Varric,” Solas says quietly as the others follow the Seeker, Lavellan bringing up the rear.  “I only meant – “</p>
<p>“I know, I know,” Varric says, waving a hand at the elf, “No need to apologize.  Tensions are high, Breaches need closing, et cetera, et cetera.  It’s fine, Solas.” </p>
<p>“As you say,” Solas murmurs skeptically, but drops the topic. </p>
<p>The group spends the next few minutes walking in silence, which Lavellan would enjoy if not for the constant threat of further attack.  Still, she would rather fight 10,000 demons out here than face another 10 back in that damned tunnel. </p>
<p>Eventually the silence is broken by the hum of what Lavellan now recognizes as another rift.  Cassandra increases their pace as it gets louder, grimly drawing her sword.  Lavellan readies her own weapons just before it comes into sight, further down the hill.  As before it is surrounded by wraiths and shades, engaged in battle with –</p>
<p>“The missing soldiers,” Adaar mutters, shaking out his wrist.  As soon as they get in range, he starts shooting fireballs into the fray, careful to avoid their endangered allies. </p>
<p>Lavellan darts among the writhing demons, surprising one before disengaging and attacking another.  As soon as the last shade falls, she locks eyes with Adaar.  He raises an eyebrow questioningly and she shakes her head.  <em>Your turn this time.  </em>He smiles and raises his hand towards the rift.</p>
<p>One of the missing soldiers walks up to their party.</p>
<p>“Lady Cassandra!”  She shouts with a salute. </p>
<p>Cassandra whirls to face her.  “Lieutenant!  Your alive!” </p>
<p>The Lieutenant laughs.  “Just barely.  Thank the Maker you’re here, we almost – “</p>
<p>Adaar lowers his hand suddenly with a gasp and the rift pulses, sending streaks of light into the ground.  Lavellan watches the roiling green with growing dread.  When Adaar closed the first rift a beam of energy had leapt between his mark and the tear.  The same phenomenon had happened when Lavellan had sealed her rift, but this time . . . there had been no connection, and he hadn’t been able to close it.  Which could only mean –</p>
<p>“More demons coming through!”  Solas shouts, casting a barrier over all of them.</p>
<p>A burst of light explodes from the ground, disgorging two more demons into their midst.  Except these are not the shades and wraiths they have faced thus far.  The demons are large, gangly creatures, with spindly limbs that end in wicked claws.  Mouths lined by sharp teeth lie beneath pointed crowns.  Lavellan thinks they are called terrors, and then she does not think of much at all besides survival.</p>
<p>The terrors seem to possess more intelligence than lesser demons.  They lope over to the cluster of people, and Lavellan readies herself for a fight.  She is not prepared when they vanish into the earth a few feet away.  Lavellan turns towards Solas, a question on her lips, when she is knocked violently off her feet.  She hits the ground with a thud and rolls away from the demon now squatting where she once stood.   As she scrambles upright, she sees that Adaar is contending with his own terror, still half crouched over the packed dirt. </p>
<p><em>It’s like we were targeted, </em>she thinks when the other terror ignores Cassandra’s attack to take a swipe at Adaar.  Lavellan dodges a swinging arm, trying to get behind her attacker.  As soon as she gets out of sight the terror throws its head back and screams, a horrible grating sound that ends in a pulse of force, knocking her down again.  <em>Damn!</em></p>
<p>The terror slashes across Lavellan’s arm before she can rise from her prone position.  She barely avoids two more attacks, then Solas manages to freeze it with a massive burst of ice.  Lavellan snarls and levers herself up onto the balls of her feet.  She pushes off the ground with as much force as she can muster, burying her blades in the terror’s chest.  A well-placed crossbow bolt shatters its head moments later, and the demon follows its brethren into nothingness.</p>
<p>Cassandra beheads the other demon with a shout.  Its hand is frozen outstretched as it disintegrates, poised mere inches from Adaar’s heart.  The qunari falls to his knees, breathing hard.  A great gash mars the right side of his chest, and he supports himself on his staff with a white-knuckled grip. </p>
<p>“I need a healing potion!”  Cassandra barks, rushing to his side.</p>
<p><em>Will that be enough?  </em>Lavellan takes a step toward her friend.  <em>The wound looks bad.  What if – no.  </em>She shakes her head violently, turning back to the rift.  <em>Focus.  I must trust that he will be fine.  Closing this rift falls to me now, before more demons come through.  Even he would tell me that is the more important task.</em></p>
<p>Lavellan plants her feet and raises her mark skyward.  <em>I want to close this rift, </em>she thinks fiercely<em>.  </em>Green lightening immediately zips out of her hand, crackling as it connects to the rift.  Lavellan drowns out all thought with her desire to heal the wound in the Fade.  She can feel the rift pulling energy from her mark as it crumples in on itself.  With one final tug she releases her connection, closing the tear.</p>
<p>She immediately turns back to Adaar.  The qunari is on his feet, supported on one side by Cassandra.  To Lavellan’s relief the gash is no longer actively bleeding, though a fair amount of blood has soaked into his clothes.  He gives her a shaky smile and waves off her concerned frown. </p>
<p>Solas comes to stand beside her.  He gives Lavellan an appraising glance, accompanied by that pleased half-smile again. </p>
<p>“Sealed, as before.  You are getting quite proficient at this,” he says.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Lavellan replies, “It <em>was</em> easier to do than last time.”</p>
<p>“I like easy,” Varric comments as he strolls past.  He pulls a crossbow bolt out of the snow and examines it critically.  With a shrug he slips the projectile back in his quiver.  “Let’s just hope it also works on the big one.”</p>
<p>Behind Lavellan the Lieutenant clears her throat, saluting again when they all turn to look at her.</p>
<p>“Lady Cassandra.  Thank you for your help.  We couldn’t hold on much longer when you arrived, and the terror demons would have finished us off easily without you.” </p>
<p>Cassandra looks up at Adaar, one of his arms still thrown over her shoulder.  “Thank our prisoners, Lieutenant.  Without them we would not be here, and the rift would remain open,” Cassandra says.</p>
<p>The other woman looks startled.  “Our prisoners?”  Her eyes flit between Lavellan and Adaar.  “Then you – “</p>
<p>“It was worth saving you, if we could,” Adaar says.  “I am glad we were able to reach you in time, just as I am glad you were here to help us in turn.”</p>
<p>The Lieutenant beams up at him.  “Well.  Then you have our sincere gratitude.  Both of you.”  She looks at the rest of the group.  “What will you do now?”</p>
<p>“The way to the valley is still open, you should go while you still can,” Cassandra commands.  “We will continue on to the temple.  Leave the fallen where they lie, there is no time to move them.  Adraste guide you, Lieutanant.” </p>
<p>The Lieutenant salutes sharply.  “Walk in light, Lady Cassandra.” </p>
<p>Cassandra watches the remaining scouts as they limp back to the mine.</p>
<p>“Can you walk?”  She asks when the soldiers are out of earshot.</p>
<p>Adaar lifts his arm from her shoulder, still leaning on his staff.  “I have some fight in me yet, Seeker.  My injury will hold, for now.”</p>
<p>Lavellan raises an eyebrow at her friend.  <em>Such confidence, though you can barely stand.  I trust in your ability to gauge your limits, Adaar, but . . . </em>She huffs and looks away.  <em>I suppose we do not have much choice at this point.  Capable or not, both of us must make it to the Breach. </em></p>
<p>“The path ahead appears clear of demons,” Solas says, eyes going unfocused.  “You will have some time to recover.  I would advise you to use another healing potion.  Who knows what danger awaits us at the Breach.”</p>
<p>Cassandra nods at the elf, “Good.  Thank you, Solas.  We could all use the respite but be on your guard.”  She glares up at the sky.  “Let’s move.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>They arrive at the Temple of Sacred Ashes without further confrontation, but it is a reprieve Lavellan can’t bring herself to be grateful for.  The Temple is a husk of devastation, its rubble barely outlining the massive structure it must once have been.  Fires smolder in the ruin, releasing smoke that clogs the air for miles around.  Charred corpses decorate the landscape, fragile statues captured in the painful rictus of their final moments.  The cloying scent of burning flesh is circulated by every gust of wind. </p>
<p>Lavellan thinks the Temple’s name is morbidly apt, though she can find nothing ‘sacred’ about the raw destruction left in the Breach’s wake.</p>
<p>Cassandra’s troops have yet to arrive, which means their party has set up a temporary base in one of the less gruesome areas of rubble.  The Seeker had pointed her charges to the location with a terse order to ‘stay here’ and immediately marched off, ostensibly on patrol.  However, given how her pensive expression deepens with every pass through the camp, Lavellan is more inclined to define the movement as ‘pacing.’</p>
<p>Lavellan had claimed a perch atop a wall at the opposite end of the clearing from Cassandra’s route, excusing herself to keep watch on the Breach.  They have been sitting under its pulsating mass for some time, long enough that she doesn’t think it is an immediate threat to their safety.  But Cassandra’s worry is setting her on edge:  Having something to do helps Lavellan quell her own growing apprehension.        </p>
<p>Adaar rests nearby under Solas’ watchful eye.  He sits with his back against crumbling stone, eyes closed, engaged in quiet conversation with the other mage.  While his wound is much improved after a second healing potion, Lavellan remains wary.  His dark skin still has a concerning ashy pallor, and every time she looks at him her eyes are drawn to the large blood stain encrusting his side.  He’s lost a lot of blood, even for a qunari, and a couple healing potions are not nearly enough to make up for that.</p>
<p>The sky briefly crackles overhead as the Breach expands, a splintering wall of green fractals that stretches the veil between worlds even thinner.  Lavellan steadfastly ignores the answering throb in her hand.  She breathes deeply, easing the tension between her shoulder blades, eyes fixed on the massive rift far above. </p>
<p>“It’s a long way up,” Varric says quietly as he settles against the wall beneath her, Bianca propped against his hip.  He absentmindedly runs a cloth over her stock, buffing the clean surface free of even the ghost of grime.  “It’s not going to get any closer if you stare at it.”</p>
<p>“Someone has to keep an eye on it,” Lavellan murmurs.</p>
<p>Varric snorts, “Keep an eye, huh?  Well, between the four of us we’ve got eight of those.  More if the Seeker decides to pull the stick out of her ass and join us.  This isn’t exactly the sort of place you want to be in alone.”  He pauses significantly, sighing when Lavellan doesn’t respond.  “Come on, Eagle Eyes, let’s sit with the others.  The Breach is big enough you can still see it from over there, I promise.”</p>
<p>Lavellan raises an eyebrow.  “Eagle Eyes?”</p>
<p>“Eh, it’s a work in progress.  A good nickname takes time, even for a master wordsmith such as myself.”</p>
<p>“<em>Eagle Eyes?”</em>  Lavellan repeats.</p>
<p>Varric winks up at her.  “It was either that or ‘Stabby,’ so count yourself lucky.  Now are you joining us or not?  Being this close to that thing is giving me the creeps.”</p>
<p>Lavellan sighs and hops off the wall, her landing cushioned by a puff of ash.  She’d rather make sure nothing else spawns out of the Fade to attack them, but . . . Varric is right.  Her gaze flits to the shadow figure etched into the cracked stone beside her.  This isn’t a good place to be alone. </p>
<p>“Will being an additional 20 meters away really make it less strange?”  She asks as they pick their way around a charred pile of pews. </p>
<p>“When it involves being in such excellent company?  Damn right it will.”</p>
<p>Lavellan shoots him a skeptical look.</p>
<p>“Hey now, I know what that look means.  Right now, you’re thinking ‘Varric, you’re so full of shit,’ which . . . ok, that’s fair.  But I’ve been talking to you for five minutes and I feel better already.  And you are way less tense than you were before, don’t lie.  So yeah.  Company?  Definitely an improvement.”</p>
<p><em>I suppose he’s right, </em>Lavellan admits.  The weight between her shoulders has lessened considerably, even with her back to the Breach.  Her palms have stopped itching for her daggers as well, though concern for an ambush still gnaws at her mind.  <em>Brooding on that wall wasn’t going to help anyone, least of all me.  I should probably thank him.</em></p>
<p>“Any news on the Seeker’s army?”  She says instead as they approach their other two companions.</p>
<p>Adaar cracks his eyes open and smiles up at her.  “I’m afraid not.  Cassandra hasn’t said much the last few times she passed through camp, and I wouldn’t recommend asking her.  Our dear Seeker is rather prickly when she’s worried about something.” </p>
<p>“Oh, just when she’s worried?  She must be anxious constantly,” Varric mutters. </p>
<p>Solas shoots him a quelling look.  The dwarf sighs and raises his hands in mock surrender, grumbling under his breath. </p>
<p>“Be that as it may,” Solas begins, inclining his head towards Adaar, “I do not believe we have cause for concern just yet.  We knew from the beginning that the mountain pass was the faster route.  The ground troops have a much more strenuous path, though I have no doubt they are capable of prevailing.  They will be here in time, and I for one welcome this reprieve.”</p>
<p>“Yes, this unexpected rest period has been useful,” Adaar says, shifting against the wall.  “I don’t know how much further I would have been able to go without it, honestly,” he adds ruefully, gesturing to his bloodied side.</p>
<p>Lavellan frowns.  “And now?”  She asks.</p>
<p>“Oh, I still have a bit of fight left in me.  When it is time to face the Breach I will make my stand, same as anyone else.”</p>
<p>“And your magic?”  Lavellan clips out tersely.</p>
<p>“Still there,” Adaar replies gently.  “Don’t worry about me, Lavellan.  I’ll be fine.” </p>
<p>Lavellan opens her mouth to question Adaar’s definition of ‘fine,’ but any argument she is about to make is forestalled by the approach of their erstwhile Seeker.</p>
<p>“Scouts in the ruins!”  Cassandra calls, her relief barely hidden by the determination in her stride.  “The rest of the army should not be far behind.  We should make our way closer to the Breach, Leliana may be waiting on us already.”</p>
<p>“And just when I was starting to get comfortable,” Varric sighs, slinging Bianca across his back.  He rolls his neck with a crack, shaking out his hands.  “Alright people, let’s get this party started, yeah?  I have an appointment with the bar back in Haven that I can’t miss.  Of course, you’re all welcome to join me.  They may have enough alcohol for the five of us, but with all the shit we’ve been through today they might run out before we’re done.” </p>
<p>“I don’t drink,” Lavellan deadpans. </p>
<p>“I’ll be happy to join you,” Adaar says at the same time.</p>
<p>Lavellan scowls at her friend.  “The only place you’ll be going when this is over is the healer’s.  A tavern is the last thing you need after losing so much blood.”</p>
<p>“Ok!”  Varric says loudly, “Maybe we’ll take a rain check on the booze.  Lavellan, my invitation still stands:  If you’re not drinking it leaves more for the rest of us.  You can be in charge of putting our sorry asses to bed at the end of the night, eh?”</p>
<p>“This argument is pointless,” Cassandra says, offering Adaar a hand.  “Focus.  Our only concern right now should be the Breach, save your celebratory plans for later,” she adds as she pulls the qunari to his feet. </p>
<p>“Indeed,” Solas says drily.  The elven mage looks up contemplatively at the tumultuous sky.  “I also do not usually partake.  Although if we manage to close the Breach today, I may be persuaded to join you as well.”</p>
<p>“Excellent,” Varric grins broadly.  “Sounds like a party.  Lead on, Seeker.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>As Cassandra predicted, Leliana is waiting for them closer to the Breach.  She stands pensively, just beyond the skeleton of a doorway, overlooking the pit at the epicenter of the Breach’s destruction.  A large rift crackles above a stone tower at the very center, directly below the undulating tear across the sky.  One of the scouts loitering in the ruins notices their approach, jumping up from his reclined position to whisper in her ear.</p>
<p>“You’re here, thank the Maker!”  She exclaims, walking over to meet them.  She places a hand on Cassandra’s elbow.  “I trust the mountain pass was no trouble?”</p>
<p>“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” the Seeker sighs.  She puts a gloved hand over Leliana’s and gives it a gentle squeeze.  “We found your missing people.”</p>
<p>“Alive?”  Leliana asks.</p>
<p>“Some of them.  We sent those who remained back to the forward camp.”</p>
<p>Leliana nods.  “That is more than I could have hoped for.  Thank you, Cassandra.”</p>
<p>Cassandra grimaces slightly.  “It is what anyone would have done.  How were things on the ground?”</p>
<p>“Grueling,” Leliana answers bluntly, “But most of our troops made it through.  I have our archers with me, and the rest guarding our rear and flanks.  You have a plan?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Cassandra says, stepping away from Leliana to survey the pit beneath the Breach.  “Leliana, have your archers take up positions around the temple,” she sweeps her hand to indicate the rubble at the periphery, “and give me ten of your best swordsmen.  We will find a way to descend and close the rift.  After that,” she sighs, rubbing at her forehead, “After that, I suppose we try to close the Breach.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Leliana says, motioning to her scouts, “I will make sure everyone is in position.”  For a moment she looks ready to hug the Seeker, but reasserts her composure before she can reach out.  “Andraste guide you, Cassandra,” she says finally, vanishing deeper into the ruins before Cassandra can respond in kind. </p>
<p>Cassandra sighs again and turns to face the rest of the party.  “This is our chance to end this,” she begins, glancing between Lavellan and Adaar.  “Well.  Your chance to end this,” she corrects.  “Are you ready?”</p>
<p>Lavellan looks at Adaar.  The qunari gazes calmly back.  <em>No, </em>Lavellan thinks, <em>we’re not ready.  He’s lost a lot of blood, and I’m not entirely uninjured myself.  We’re just two people, thrust into a role neither of us want because of a power we don’t understand.  How could we ever be ready?  But we don’t have a choice.  </em></p>
<p>“We’ll try,” Lavellan says when Adaar doesn’t respond, “Though I still don’t know how we’ll be able to reach it.” </p>
<p>“You must close the rift first,” Solas interjects.  “The rift is the key.  If you seal it, you will be able to seal the Breach.”</p>
<p>“Well it’s good to know that part one of the plan should work, but ‘sealed’ isn’t the same as ‘removed from the face of Thedas,’ Chuckles,” Varric murmurs.</p>
<p>Cassandra shakes her head.  “We will worry about that later, Varric.  For now, keeping the Breach from destroying the world will be enough.  Let’s find our way down, and be careful, all of you.”</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>
  <em>“Now is the hour of our victory.”</em>
</p>
<p>Lavellan startles when the booming voice echoes out, nearly falling off a wall.  <em>Where is that coming from? </em> She wonders, gently lowering herself to the ground.  There is something . . . familiar about it, a recognition that snags at the back of her mind and fills her with dread, but she cannot place it.  <em>That voice . . . how do I know it?</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“Bring forth the sacrifice.”</em>
</p>
<p>Lavellan startles again, a nameless fear gripping at her chest.  She looks around frantically for the speaker, and her companions do the same.  Her only comfort is that they seem just as bewildered as she is.</p>
<p>“What are we hearing?”  Cassandra asks when she drops over the wall, hand tight on the pommel of her sword. </p>
<p>“At a guess?  The person who created the Breach,” Solas murmurs. </p>
<p>The other elf seems unsurprised by the disembodied voice, observing his surroundings with mild disinterest.  Lavellan is struck again by his strangeness, but pushes aside her instinctive suspicion for a later time. </p>
<p>“Where is it coming from?”  Varric asks nervously, gripping his crossbow tightly. </p>
<p>Solas points to the Breach with his staff.  “It is only a fragment of what was before.  Do not let it trouble you.  Reality is stretched thin in this place, and I expect it will only get worse as we near our destination.” </p>
<p>“That’s easier said than done, Chuckles.”</p>
<p>Solas raises an eyebrow.  “Tis but a voice, dwarf.  It cannot harm you.”</p>
<p>Varric rolls his eyes.  “You say that, <em>elf, </em>but considering everything we’ve come across today has tried to kill us I think I’m allowed to be concerned.  You say ‘don’t worry Varric, everything’s fine,’ and suddenly we find ourselves facing some sort of anti-desire demon.  Wait, is that a thing?  Is there a demon that turns into the exact opposite of what you want?  Because that would just . . .”</p>
<p>He trails off as he rounds a corner, coming to an abrupt halt.  Lavellan, walking behind him, nearly runs into his back.  She veers left just in time to avoid the dwarf, thumping gently against the wall.  She shoots a glare at the back of Varric’s head. </p>
<p>The path ahead is clear of enemies, and surprisingly free of corpses.  Blood-red crystal spires loom overhead, jutting out of the ground in patches.  They hum unpleasantly, emitting a low-grade field of twisting energy.  Lavellan shivers.  She doesn’t know what the stones are, but she doesn’t think they’re anything good.  Adaar leans against the wall beside her, grimacing in distaste.  <em>No, definitely not good.  </em></p>
<p>“Keep moving,” Cassandra calls from ahead of them, not looking back. </p>
<p>Varric takes a faltering step forward.  “That’s red lyrium, Seeker,” he whispers urgently, keeping his distance from the spikes. </p>
<p>“I know what it is, Varric,” Cassandra sighs.</p>
<p>“But what’s it <em>doing </em>here?”</p>
<p>“Magic could have drawn on lyrium under the temple, corrupted it,” Solas supplies. </p>
<p>Varric makes a noise in his throat.  “Don’t touch it!  It’s evil!”</p>
<p>Lavellan had no intention of touching the lyrium to begin with, but she does try to give it a wider berth.  She can still feel slimy tendrils of magic caressing her mind as she passes.  <em>That way lies madness, </em>she thinks.  Adaar puts a steadying hand on her shoulder, looking nauseated.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Keep the sacrifice still.”</em>
</p>
<p>The voice rings out again as they pass a large cluster of red lyrium.  The lyrium pulses as it speaks, emitting a strange red glow.  The oppressive miasma that surrounds them seems to get thicker, and Lavellan quickens her pace. </p>
<p>
  <em>“Someone, help me!” </em>
</p>
<p>A woman’s voice, also familiar.  Her distress is palpable, even though Lavellan knows she isn’t real.  <em>Why do I know them?  Why can’t I remember?</em></p>
<p>Cassandra gasps ahead of her, breaking into a run.  “That is Divine Justinia’s voice!”  She cries.  She reaches the edge of the pit and vaults over. </p>
<p>Lavellan quickly follows suit, dropping the few feet from the ledge and landing in a crouch.  Apart from the tower the rubble is sparse down here, blown to the sides by the heart of the explosion.  The air is hazy with motes of dust, glittering green and making it difficult to tell where reality ends and the Fade begins.  The rift writhes overhead, much bigger up close than it had seemed before and still so far away. </p>
<p><em>How are we supposed to reach that? </em>She wonders.  Adaar drops down beside her with an <em>oof, </em>catching himself on his staff.  He looks over at her, face set in a mask of determination.  Without a word they both step towards the rift.</p>
<p>Suddenly their marks flare, and the world erupts into dazzling fractals of green.  An image coalesces in the Fade-light:  A woman, wearing the habit of a chantry sister.  <em>Divine Justinia.  </em>Her arms are held out to her sides as she struggles against invisible bonds.  A figure towers over her, shadowy green except for its eyes:  They flare red, the same shade as the malignant lyrium now cannibalizing the Temple’s bones. </p>
<p>
  <em>“Someone, help me!”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What’s going on here?”</em>
</p>
<p>Lavellan startles as she recognizes Adaar’s voice.  Three more shadow figures appear above them, more distant than the first two.  One is taller than the others, and clearly a qunari.  <em>Adaar.  You were there, </em>Lavellan thinks in shock.</p>
<p>“That was your voice!  Most holy called out to you!”  Cassandra says, face slack with surprise.</p>
<p>Adaar looks just as shocked as everyone else.  “I –“</p>
<p>The vision pulses overhead, becoming clearer.  One of the shadow figures beside Adaar has drawn a sword and is rushing towards the spectre of the Divine.  Justinia turns to face them, crying out.</p>
<p> <em>“Run while you can, warn them!” </em></p>
<p>The creature in front of her rears back.</p>
<p>
  <em>“We have intruders.  Slay them.” </em>
</p>
<p>More people enter the image, engaging in battle.  Justinia makes a sharp motion that sends her attacker flying backwards.  An object flies out of his hands, rolling towards Adaar.  The qunari bends down to pick it up, and –</p>
<p>There’s a burst of yellow light, and the image disappears.  The rift crackles overhead before settling.  Lavellan catches Adaar’s eye, her mouth open.  The qunari stares back at her helplessly.  <em>What . . . what just happened?  </em>Her friend doesn’t reply to her wordless query. </p>
<p>Gravel crunches as Cassandra marches over to them, and a frisson of fear cuts through the confusion on Adaar’s face. </p>
<p>“You <em>were </em>there!”  The Seeker exclaims.  She points an agitated finger in Adaar’s face.  “You . . . who attacked?  And the Divine, she . . . what happened?” </p>
<p>Adaar raises his hands and tries to put some distance between himself and the Seeker.  “I don’t remember,” he says, backing up a step. </p>
<p>“But –“</p>
<p>“Memories of the Fade,” Solas murmurs, putting a hand on Cassandra’s shoulder.  He looks at Adaar with interest.  “Fascinating.  Perhaps with time they will be your memories as well?”</p>
<p>Adaar huffs a laugh.  “I certainly hope so.  Cassandra isn’t the only one who wants to know what happened.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Solas nods.  The mage redirects his gaze to the Breach.  “The rift is not fully opened, and therefore that is our first task.  Only then can you close it with the marks, but it will attract attention.”</p>
<p>Cassandra huffs, and pulls her attention away from Adaar.  Lavellan has no doubt she will return to her interrogation of the mage later, but the Seeker has always been good at focusing at the problem at hand.  It also diverts attention from the question Lavellan is studiously ignoring.  <em>If Adaar was there . . . where was I?</em></p>
<p>“That means demons!”  Cassandra barks, directing the soldiers to stand in a semicircle around the rift.  She draws her sword.  “Stand ready!” </p>
<p>“Should we try together?”  Adaar asks.</p>
<p>“That may be wise.  Hopefully the combined power of your marks will be sufficient to fully open the doorway,” Solas responds.  He raises his staff in an offensive position, a spell tingling over his splayed fingertips. </p>
<p>Adaar nods, transferring his own staff to his unmarked hand.  “Ready when you are,” he murmurs. </p>
<p>Lavellan takes a deep breath, freeing a dagger from her back.  <em>Mythal watch over us, </em>she prays.  Slowly she raises her hand to the sky.  <em>Open this rift.  </em></p>
<p>A tendril of blinding green jumps from the rift to her hand, shortly followed by a second that connects with Adaar’s.  As it catches hold Lavellan releases a gasp of pain.  Beside her Adaar stumbles forward, leaning heavily on his staff.  <em>Damn, it’s too big!  </em>She thinks.  <em>I can feel it pulling the energy out of me.  It feels like its tugging on my very being.</em></p>
<p>In what must have been a few seconds but felt like an eternity, Lavellan’s hand is finally released with a blinding flash of light.  She hears Adaar curse as his own link is disconnected.  Above them the rift spirals open with a shriek.  The ground below it bubbles effervescent green, preparing to spew forth whatever attention their little stunt managed to attract. </p>
<p>“At the ready!”  Cassandra yells behind her.  The bubbling reaches a climax with a bone shaking hum.  “Now!”  The Seeker screams when the Fade flashes, and the demon is deposited in their midst. </p>
<p>The demon is massive, bigger than any Lavellan has ever seen and easily three times taller than Adaar.  It rises on great granite legs, its craggy skin shifting as it stands.  Wicked horns sit over beady eyes and a mouth of jagged stone teeth that stretches fully across its face.  It spreads its arms and laughs, grating like a landslide.  A twist of its claws brings a sizzling electric whip to its hands. </p>
<p>Lavellan’s breath catches in her throat when the demon turns to look at her with a lazy grin.  <em>Mythal protect us, </em>she thinks in horror. </p>
<p>Cassandra cries challenge and rushes forward.  Her sword scythes through the air, only to bounce off when it hits the demon’s leg.  Frost forms over its skin when Solas releases his spell, but the demon only laughs and shakes it off.  A flick of its whip carves a trench into the ground and sends one of the soldiers flying through the air.  The man hits a wall with a sickening crunch and does not get up.</p>
<p>“Strip its defense, we must wear it down!”  Cassandra cries, hacking fruitlessly at the thing’s leg.</p>
<p><em>Strip its defense?  How?  Its skin is impenetrable!  </em>Lavellan darts forward, trying to bury her daggers in a foot.  One of her blades bends with a worrying twang but doesn’t break.  Arrows whistle by her head as she ducks behind the creature.  <em>We need a better idea Seeker, and fast!</em></p>
<p>Out of the corner of her eye she sees Adaar withdraw from the battle.  <em>Adaar!  Is he alright?  </em>Worry clenches at her chest, but her friend seems unharmed.  His face is turned up toward the rift, unconcerned with the battle raging behind him.  <em>What in Andruil’s name is he doing?  </em>He raises his mark slowly toward the rift, connecting to it with a grimace.  Immediately the demon turns towards him, lumbering across the short distance to reach the qunari.  It raises its whip high in the air.</p>
<p>“Adaar!”  Lavellan screams, running to keep up with the massive creature.</p>
<p>With a grunt Adaar releases his connection to the Fade.  The rift contracts into a tight ball as he staggers backwards.  The demon falls to its knees behind him, breathing heavily, whip limp against the ground. </p>
<p>“Now!”  Cassandra screams, “Attack it now!” </p>
<p>Lavellan jumps on the demon’s back, surprised when her daggers plunge deep into its flesh.  <em>He did it.  He took away its defenses!  </em>She leaps back to the ground just in time to avoid a fireball from Adaar.  The mage nods to her as she races past, grinning victoriously.  <em>We may win this yet.  </em></p>
<p>Above them the rift whines.  <em>No!  </em>Lavellan growls when it expands outward again.  The ground around it bubbles as more demons prepare to come through.  The creature is oozing fluid now, but it struggles to its feet with another laugh.  Two shades spawn and head directly for Adaar.  <em>Fine, my turn.  </em></p>
<p>Lavellan darts unnoticed between the shades.  She comes to a halt on the other side of the tower, trying to keep the structure between herself and the massive demon.  The rift is still expanding above her, not yet to its original size.  <em>Come on, come on, </em>she thinks.  One of the shades disembowels a soldier, continuing its path to the qunari mage.  <em>Come on!</em></p>
<p>Finally the rift returns to its original size, and Lavellan reaches her hand upwards.  Her mark connects with searing pain.  She grits her teeth and holds on, peripherally aware of the lumbering grey shape rounding the tower beside her.  With a pop her hand is released, and the rift contracts in on itself.  Lavellan has a moment of relief before something slams into her side, knocking her off her feet.</p>
<p>She crumples to the ground without a sound, her muscles paralyzed in contraction.  It feels like every nerve in her body is on fire.  Someone screams her name, but she can’t recognize the voice.  Nearby she can see a crackling rope of electricity, a divot carved into the ground where he was standing moments before.  The soldiers are hacking at a large grey lump at the other end of the rope. </p>
<p><em>I did it, </em>Lavellan thinks distantly, her vision blurring.  The creature disintegrates into a thousand flecks of dust.  <em>They defeated the demon.  </em></p>
<p>“Now!  Seal the rift!”  a voice calls.  <em>Cassandra . . .</em></p>
<p>A horned figure steps into Lavellan’s diminishing field of view, hand blazing green as he reaches for the sky.  Lavellan’s fingers twitch as he connects to the rift.  <em>Adaar . . . yes.  Close the rift . . . </em></p>
<p>Her mark pulses with energy as the rift snaps shut with a resounding <em>crack!  </em>Adaar falls to his knees.  <em>We did it.  We saved the world.  </em>Dark spots dance inwards from the edges of Lavellan’s vision as Adaar collapses fully to the ground.  Lavellan sees the soldiers rushing over to help, and then –</p>
<p>Blackness.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter will be back in Adaar's perspective:  We'll finally get to meet the other Heralds!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Adaar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A meeting of Heralds.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one has been sitting around 95% finished for 2 months (whoops).  Basically med school is a lot, but things get done eventually.  </p><p>This is from Adaar's perspective again, because I didn't want to write the other Heralds without introducing them first!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> “Tama?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The qunari woman looks up from her sword.  The blade gleams under her whetstone, reflecting the dancing firelight behind her.  A few strands of white hair escape her braid with the motion, falling softly over her eyes.  She smiles down at him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, imekari?”  She replies, setting her whetstone aside.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Adaar shuffles across the rug to sit at her feet.  A log shifts in the fireplace with a gentle pop, shooting a small spray of sparks into the air around him.  He feels hot sitting so close to the flames, but the more subtle warmth in his mother’s gaze easily soothes his discomfort.  She hands him the stone when he reaches for it, a smooth weight in his small palm.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What does Vashoth mean?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His mother sets her sword aside and scoops him onto her lap.  The leather of her armor is hard beneath him.  Adaar grabs at the strap across her chest to steady himself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ah, my little ashkaari, but you know this answer already.  You are called Vashoth because you never lived under the Qun.  I am Tal-Vashoth, as is your father and many of our friends, because we chose to leave home and the Qun behind us.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is Nen Vashoth too?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His mother looks over at the fire.  “No.  Fah’nen was Dalish once, but now . . .” she turns her smile back to the child on her lap, “she is our friend.  If you want to know more than that you can ask her at your next lesson.  She told us in her last message that she would be here next month, yes?”   </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Adaar nods as he rolls the stone against his leg.  It slips from his hand when he gets too close to his knee, and his mother catches it before it falls to the ground.  She drops it back into Adaar’s outstretched hand with a laugh.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why did you leave the Qun?”  Adaar asks, gripping the whetstone firmly to his chest.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You are just full of questions today, hm?” His mother replies, tugging gently on the spiral nub of his horn.  “Everyone who leaves the Qun has their own reasons.  I left because I made a choice that the people around me would not have approved of.  I was too headstrong, too stubborn, and I grew tired of living under their rules.  Your father left because I asked him to; because he would follow me anywhere.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is that why you leave home now?”  Adaar asks, gazing up at his mother with wide eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She frowns, smoothing a hand over his hair.  “Now why would you say that, imekari?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Every time you come back you leave again so soon.  Father says it is because you are restless.”  Her frown deepens, and Adaar reaches up to press the corner of her mouth with one finger.  “He always smiles when he says so,” he adds helpfully, and the frown evens out to a smile.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is that so?”  She responds with a twinkle in her eye.  “I will have to have a word with him about that.  I leave because I have to, imekari, just like your father has to leave every morning for his deliveries.  People pay my friends and me to protect them, or to guard their possessions.  I would much rather be with you, but I need to do my job.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The front door creaks open and his father stomps in, shaking rainwater from his coat and squinting in the firelight.  Adaar’s mother lifts him from her lap and sets him back down onto the rug before standing.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Perhaps one day soon you can come out with me, yes?  I think I would like that very much.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, Tama!”  Adaar agrees over his father’s sigh.  “Will I be a warrior like you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His mother laughs as she kisses his father on the cheek.  He grumbles something at her, too low for Adaar to hear.  She just laughs louder and flicks at his nose.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“If that is what you want, though I think your talents will lie in other areas,” she replies, strapping the sword to her belt.  She kneels down and kisses Adaar on the forehead.  “Try not to set anything on fire when I’m gone, my little Adaar.  You know your father is running out of hair to lose,” she mock whispers.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Adaar giggles and nods solemnly.  His mother gives him one final kiss.  His father hands her a pack and she raps a fist lightly against his forehead in return.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone,” she promises.  With one final wave she pulls open the front door and steps outside.  His father watches until the door swings shut again.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, little one,” he says with a sigh, coming over to crouch in front of Adaar, “What are we going to get into this time?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Adaar crawls into his father’s lap.  “Tell me a story about Tama,” he decides.  “Tell me a story about your home.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>~*~</em>
</p><p>Adaar returns to awareness slowly.  He drifts pleasantly on the edge of consciousness, not quite ready to pull himself from the fade-world of his dreams.  Memories continue to drift past him in fragments:  The first time he completes a mission with the Valo-Kas, his mother beaming with pride; training in the forest with Fah’nen, sweat dripping down his back as she snarls commands (<em>Barrier up Adaar!  It needs to be strong and steadfast.  You must be ebony; you must be onyx!  If you want to fight you have to be able to protect yourself first!</em>); Accidentally setting the kitchen table on fire again, his father’s heavy sigh leading into another story about his Tama’s misadventures in Par Vollen.</p><p>He can hear the sounds of a town around him:  The gentle murmur of dozens of people crammed into one space; the rhythmic ringing of sword-on-sword in a nearby training yard; the clop of hooves on gravel as a horse passes nearby.  Snatches of conversation begin slipping through, closer and more distinct than the ambient noise he first picked up.  The words become clearer, dragging him steadily into the waking world.  Adaar rouses himself enough to frown.  He does not recognize the voices around him.  He wonders idly where he is. </p><p>Then he remembers the Breach, and the demons, and his stolen time.  Suddenly his dream world does not seem so pleasant.  He opens his eyes and shoots upright.  He is in an unfamiliar room, a well-lit and comfortable space with a crackling fireplace at its heart.  He only has time to realize that he is in a bed before a wave of dizziness threatens to knock him right back into it. </p><p>“Ah, you’ve finally awakened,” one of the voices says. </p><p>Adaar closes his eyes for a moment, trying to regain his equilibrium before seeking out the speaker.  A dark-skinned dwarf sits primly on another bed that has been pushed against the wall in front of him.  Tight, black curls shot through with grey hug the top of her skull.  Sunlight streams through the open window beside her, highlighting the sharp lines of her face.  The clothes she wears look practical, but even through his sleep-addled haze Adaar can recognize the lustrous cotton and phoenix scales that belie their expense. </p><p>This picture of wealth is undercut by the calluses on her hands and the scars on her face.  Adaar can tell she has worked for her prosperity, and that combined with the shrewd cunning in her eyes tells him all he needed to know about her line of work.  <em>Carta, </em>he thinks.  <em>I’d bet my horns on it.  </em></p><p>The Valo-Kas have an uneasy truce with most of the Carta houses in Ferelden and Orlais, and a mutual policy of avoidance with those operating out of the Free Marches.  On several occasions Adaar’s company has been hired to protect shipments or provide extra security for a house that got too public in its ventures.  However, they were more often asked to protect some fool who had crossed a Carta lieutenant, which was typically a short and bloody affair.</p><p>The Carta are brutal and ruthlessly efficient, and Adaar has no love for them.  Still, if it comes down to working for the Carta versus against them, he would choose the dwarves every time.  It’s a selfish call that makes Adaar feel guilty, but his company is less likely to experience loss of life or limb when hired by the criminal houses than they are when protecting the victims.  And at least the Carta are always good on their payments, even for the ‘Ox-men’ that predominate the Valo-Kas.    </p><p> “We were wondering if you would ever rouse,” the dwarf continues, folding her hands in front of her.  “You were unconscious for two days, far longer than the rest of us.  It has been driving the apothecary to distraction, poor man.  Solas suggested it had something to do with energy drain and how you sealed the Breach, but Lavellan awoke yesterday afternoon.  The mage seemed quite worried when you did not do the same.”</p><p>“Lavellan is alright?” Adaar asks, latching on to the familiar name. </p><p>The last thing he remembers of Lavellan is his friend curled up, twitching on the ground as electricity raced over her skin.  He was fairly certain at the time that she survived the hit but had forced himself to focus on the pride demon instead of making sure.  Lightening is an old friend of Adaar’s, and he is intimately familiar with the disabling injuries it can cause.  <em>Fuck, she has to be alright.  </em></p><p>The dwarf nods, waving her hand at the opposite corner of the room.  “She is.  Turn around if you want to ask her yourself.”</p><p>Adaar glances over his shoulder, startled.  Beside him Lavellan is seated in a bed of her own, crammed into a corner at the other end of the hearth.  Her back is rigid and flush with the wall, her legs tucked tightly beneath her.  She is staring through the other window, gaze flitting restlessly over whatever she sees outside.  Her left forearm is wrapped in a bandage, but the elf seems otherwise unharmed by their ordeal.  <em>Thank fuck for small miracles, </em>he thinks fervently.     </p><p>“Lavellan.  Are you alright?” Adaar asks again. </p><p>His friend tears her eyes from the window momentarily, offering him a tight smile.  She avoids his gaze and nods sharply before returning to her previous task.  Adaar sighs internally.  <em>Ah.  So we’re back to this again.  </em></p><p>“Not much of a talker, is she?”  The dwarf says, sounding amused.  Adaar turns back to face her.  She gives him a jaunty little wave and a smile.  “My name is Malika Cadash, by the way.  And you are called Adaar, no?”</p><p>“Yes,” Adaar replies.  He is familiar with house Cadash:  While he has never personally interacted with them, he recognizes the name from his time among the Marcher Carta.  The Cadash are wealthy, but not too wealthy, and are rumored not to be as brutal in their dealings as some.  He stifles his surprise at how open she is with her association.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cadash.”</p><p>A snort sounds from the other side of the room, and Adaar startles yet again.  <em>By the Fade how many people are in this room?  Nen would kill me for being so oblivious!  I’m either losing my touch, or sealing the Breach caused me more damage than I thought. </em></p><p>A man detaches himself from the far wall, coming to stand in front of the empty bed opposite Cadash.  He is human, with fiery red hair pulled back in a half tail.  Like Cadash he is dressed in practical clothing, with a loose shirt and leather breeches that look barely worn.  He squares his shoulders when he comes to a halt, planting his hands widely on his hips.  His posture bears the look of a man used to living in his armor, both physical and otherwise. </p><p>Despite the way he holds himself like a seasoned warrior, Adaar guesses he could be no more than 25 years of age.  He levels the qunari with a stern glare, emerald eyes tight with anger.  <em>If he had one, I am sure I would be staring down his blade right now.  </em>Adaar raises an eyebrow at the other man.  <em>A Templar perhaps?</em></p><p>“If we are done with pleasantries, perhaps we could address the more important matters at hand?” The man begins in clipped tones. </p><p>His accent marks him as a native of the Free Marches, although an occasional lilt of northern Fereldan slips through.  This time Adaar can’t hide his surprise, his brows inching upwards.  <em>Another Marcher?  That can’t be coincidence.  Can it?</em></p><p>The man levels an accusatory finger at Adaar.  “Who are you?  Who do you work for?  And why did you kill the Divine?”</p><p>Adaar’s eyebrows climb higher at the rapid-fire accusations.  “I . . . Beg pardon?”  He finally replies. </p><p>Cadash rolls her eyes.  “Please excuse Trevelyan, he suffers from an unfortunate lack of both personality and humor.  I have had the pleasure of his acquaintance these past two days, and as such I can assure you that the poor man directs his ire at any being in his path.  I myself was subjected to such questions as we waited for you to awaken, and Lavellan also.  He does rather fit the ‘Fereldan dog’ stereotype I’m afraid.”</p><p>Lavellan coughs behind him in what almost sounds like a laugh, and Adaar fights to smother a smile.  Trevelyan sneers at Cadash, crossing his arms impatiently.</p><p>“Jest all you like, but I for one have <em>not </em>forgotten why we are here.  Do you really want to spend months in confinement as we wait for others to figure this mess out?  I have <em>no </em>intention of sitting idly by.  The sooner we find the culprit, the sooner we can leave, and I know <em>damn </em>well it wasn’t me!” </p><p>“And how do you know that?”  Cadash says sharply.  “You have no memory of the events at the Conclave, same as us.”</p><p>Trevelyan lays a hand upon his breast.  “<em>I</em> was there in my uncle’s stead, representing the interests of our family.  There are many Trevelyans who hold positions both in the Chantry and the Templar Order, and we would see order restored.  What motivation do I have for destroying the Conclave, and any chance of the peace I was tasked with ensuring?  Hm?  Can any of you claim a legitimate reason for your own presence?”</p><p>Cadash bristles and stands up.  “I may not have your family name, boy, but I can assure you that our purpose in attending aligned.  Decry the Carta all you want, but war is bad for any business but its own.  How can we trade with our routes plagued by rogue Templars and apostates, plundering our lyrium shipments at every turn?  We have a vested interest in putting this matter to rest.  Why would I jeopardize this by killing the Devine?  I imagine our other two companions can say much the same, though they certainly don’t need to explain themselves to <em>you</em>!”</p><p>Adaar pushes himself out of bed and goes to stand between them. “Please, calm yourselves,” he says, hands raised placatingly.  The dwarf and the human continue to glare at each other.  “Arguing amongst ourselves serves no one.  There was a Seeker, Cassandra Pentaghast, who seemed to be in command of the remains of Divine Justinia’s forces.  I suggest we seek her out and inquire about the progress of any official investigation before we make any more accusations.”</p><p>Trevelyan turns his scowl on the other man.  “And what business did a Qunari have attending the Conclave?  The Qun has spies everywhere, and they have surely profited greatly from our chaos.  If anyone here had something to gain from killing the Divine, it would be you.”</p><p>“My parents left the Qun before I was born,” Adaar says evenly, “I have always been Vashoth, and between that and my magic the Qun would likely see me dead before thinking of recruiting me.”  Trevelyan’s eyes harden at the mention of magic, but Adaar continues calmly, “I am a captain in a mercenary group called the Valo-Kas.  Three of our companies, including my own, were hired as security for the Conclave.  As a neutral third party, we were tasked with maintaining order between the Templars and mages without causing further conflict with either side.  The job seemed to be going well, from what little I recall.” </p><p>“So now we have established why I was present at the Conclave,” He continues slowly, looking from man to dwarf.  “Which I imagine leaves only Lavellan to explain herself.  And from there we can carry on in a less aggressive manner, yes?”  Trevelyan inclines his head slightly in acquiescence.  “Lavellan?”</p><p>Adaar turns to face the elf, who has been watching the scene unfold from her silent corner.  Her sharp eyes jump from Trevelyan to Cadash, before finally settling on Adaar.  Silence stretches out between them, and for a moment Adaar wonders if she will choose not to speak at all.  Finally, Lavellan sighs and uncurls from her tight position, standing to join them. </p><p>“The Dalish have no interest in shem wars,” Lavellan begins quietly.  “In the past we have always left the humans to fight among themselves.  But this war has gone on for too long and reached too far.  These Templars and apostates do not care that the clans will have no part in it:  The Dalish suffer all the same.”  Her gaze flits to the floor before returning to Adaar, eyes steely.  “Clan Lavellan was not the only one to send spies to watch this peace treaty brokered, though I fear I may be the only one left to return home.”</p><p>With that she stops and raises an eyebrow at Adaar.  <em>That was more words than I expected, </em>he thinks, impressed.  <em>I hope her verbosity is here to stay, this time.  </em>He nods his thanks before turning back to Trevelyan.  The other man has a sour look on his face but has begrudgingly maintained his silence.</p><p>“Was that sufficient for your purposes?”  Adaar questions softly.</p><p>Cadash snorts, “More than, I would say.  I for one am done humoring this unnecessary interrogation.  What purpose did this serve, other than to waste our time and feed the ego of a paranoid child?”</p><p>Trevelyan snarls, “Now <em>listen here</em> – “</p><p>He cuts himself off as the cabin door opens.  An elven woman steps through, carrying a small box of potions.  She is still looking back over her shoulder, unaware of the frozen tableau inside.</p><p>“My Lord Trevelyan, I have brought –“ </p><p>The door creaks closed behind her as she comes to a stop, staring at Adaar with wide eyes.  “You’re awake!”  The box slips from her hands, its contents tumbling to the floor.   She immediately kneels to pick it back up, eyes fixed on the stone.  “Oh!  Please forgive me!  I didn’t know you were awake; I swear!”</p><p>Adaar hesitates, taking a step forward to help.  “Don’t worry about it, I only – “</p><p>The elf stops fiddling with the potions, bowing down at his feet.  “I beg your forgiveness and your blessing.  I am but a humble servant!”  she whispers wretchedly.</p><p>“Um . . . “ Adaar responds.  He glances back at his companions.  Cadash just shrugs, and Trevelyan rolls his eyes.  Lavellan is staring at the other elf with an expression of horror bordering on disgust, hands clenched tightly at her sides.  “Where are we?”  Adaar asks desperately, trying to steer the conversation back to more familiar ground. </p><p>“You are back in Haven, my lord,” the elf responds, shuffling backwards on her knees.  “They say you saved us.  They say you closed the Breach with the mark on your hand.  It’s all anyone has talked about in days!”</p><p>“They’re . . . happy with us?”  Adaar asks incredulously. </p><p>The elf panics, stumbling to her feet.  “I’m only saying what I heard, I didn’t mean anything by it!”  She keeps her eyes fixed to the floor.</p><p>Adaar takes another step towards her.  “It’s alright,” he says soothingly, “I was just – “</p><p>“I’m certain Lady Cassandra will want to know you’re awakened,” The elf cuts in desperately, fumbling for the door.  “She said she wanted to know at once.”</p><p>“Where is she?”  Lavellan asks quietly. </p><p>The other woman jumps at her voice, startled eyes flicking upward.  “In the Chantry with the Lord Chancellor.”  There’s a click as she finally grasps the doorknob.  “She said at once,” The elf repeats nervously, cracking the door just wide enough to stumble outside.</p><p>Adaar watches the door close behind her, feeling off balance.  Of all the reactions he anticipated, he had never expected people to be . . . pleased.  He is a mage, and Vashoth besides:  Humans have greeted him with fear and scorn his entire life.  To be hailed as a hero is . . .different, and not a little off-putting.  A burning anger at this fickle treatment tries to rise within him, but he quashes it before it can fully surface.  There is a time to confront his fury, but that is not now.</p><p>“Well.  That was interesting.”  Cadash looks as bewildered as he feels.  “Shall we continue our previous argument or do any of you have a better idea?”  She asks, glancing at Trevelyan.</p><p>“I suppose we should find Cassandra,” Adaar replies.  “She can provide us with a more objective summary of the last few days.”</p><p>Trevelyan shakes his head, “No, we should remain here.  If Pentaghast or the Nightingale have need of us, they will send a messenger soon enough.  Waltzing around Haven on our own is liable to land all four of us back in the cells beneath the chantry.  Despite the close quarters here, I for one find this to be much – Hey!  What are you doing?”</p><p>Lavellan rolls her eyes at the human as she brushes past him.  “Finding the Seeker, as Adaar said.”  She puts her hand on the door handle and looks back.  “Are you coming?”  She asks impatiently, flinging open the door.  Putting one foot over the threshold she freezes, staring straight ahead.</p><p> “Lavellan?”  Adaar calls, making his way over to her.  “Is everything al – “ he begins, tapering off into silence when he realizes what has caught the elf’s attention. </p><p>Outside, standing on snowbanks and lining the gravel road to their door, are dozens of people.  Most of them are human, though he spies a few elves interspersed in the small crowd.  All of them have their heads bowed, right hand pressed tight over their hearts as the Fade swirls and flickers overhead. </p><p>The display is one of the most unnerving things he has ever seen.</p><p>Cadash and Trevelyan join them at the door.  “Well this seems . . .” Cadash begins, peering out.  After a few beats of silence, she shakes her head, “I don’t know what to think of this.”</p><p>“Hm,” Trevelyan concurs absently from her left.  His earlier bravado has evaporated, and Adaar can sense his apprehension.</p><p><em>Or perhaps that is just my own, </em>Adaar muses.  He glances down at Lavellan, still frozen at his side.  <em>Or maybe we all feel the same unease.  </em>The elf looks like a startled fox, wary and ready to bolt at the earliest opportunity. </p><p>“Lavellan?”  Adaar says again.  The elf twitches, tearing her gaze from the deferent soldiers before them.  “The Seeker?” He prompts gently. </p><p>Lavellan nods.  “That seems to be the only course,” she mutters, before striding out the door with a confidence Adaar knows she doesn’t feel.  The qunari falls into step beside her, and the sea of watchers parts to allow their passage.  Boots crunch behind them as Cadash and Trevelyan follow them outside. </p><p>Adaar doesn’t know where the Chantry is but walking towards Haven’s heart seems a good place to start.  Lavellan apparently has a similar idea, as she leads them up the stairs and into the town proper.  The people they pass all stop and stare, many of them making the same strange salute they had seen before.  Conversations taper off as they approach:  Awed whispers break the silence when they pass. </p><p>
  <em>“That’s them, the Heralds of Andraste.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“They can seal the rifts, I saw them – “</em>
</p><p><em>“That one, the qunari.  He stopped the Breach from getting any bigger, my cousin said – “ </em> </p><p>“I don’t know what exactly you did to the Breach, but it appears to have earned you more than just respect from Justinia’s followers,” Cadash murmurs as they approach the heavy chantry doors.  The sisters outside avert their eyes when she offers them a friendly smile.    </p><p>“Perhaps,” Adaar replies, “but I think it is more than that.  Some of their reverence is directed at you as well.” </p><p>“Reverence is a kind word for it,” Trevelyan mutters as they step into the cloistered silence of the massive building.  It is darker inside, the stone walls looming upwards to meet the distant chandeliers.  Soft tapestries adorn the pillars, illuminated by warm torchlight.  Gilded statues of Andraste form a glittering barrier against the darkness lurking beneath the vaulted ceiling.  The absence of life is stark compared to the masses that had greeted them outside. </p><p>Lavellan cocks her head to one side.  “I hear raised voices,” she says, her voice echoing slightly in the vast chamber.  Adaar follows her as she makes her way unerringly towards a door on the opposite side.  As they approach, he begins to hear the sounds of an argument.  One of the voices is male, and passingly familiar. </p><p>
  <em>“Have you gone mad?  They should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately to be tried by whoever becomes the next Divine!”</em>
</p><p>Another voice rises angrily above that one;</p><p>
  <em>“I do not believe that is necessary – “</em>
</p><p>“Well, we found the Seeker,” Trevelyan muses.  The shouting is loud enough now that they can all make out the words.  “They’re arguing about us.”</p><p>
  <em>“They failed, Seeker!  The Breach is still in the sky.  For all we know they intended it that way!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I do not think that.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That is not for you to decide!  Your duty is to serve the Chantry – “</em>
</p><p><em>“My </em>duty<em> is to serve the principles the Chantry was founded on!  As is yours, Chancellor!” </em></p><p>“This should be fun,” Cadash says, a strange gleam in her eyes, “It has been too long since I had a good debate.”  </p><p>“I believe you will more than get your wish,” Adaar mutters.  Lavellan shakes her head and pushes open the door. </p><p>Cassandra is inside, standing on the other side of the massive table that commands the room.  Her hand rests on the longsword at her hip, and her steely gaze intent on her current quarry.  Opposite her is Chancellor Roderick, red faced and just as irritable as he had been three days earlier.  Each is so focused on the other that they fail to acknowledge their new audience.</p><p>Leliana is behind Cassandra, arms crossed.  Her eyes flit over to the door when it opens, and her impassive mask breaks into something like relief.  She nods a greeting, absently waving away the guards who try to intercept their entry. </p><p>“I hope we’re not interrupting anything,” Cadash says sweetly, coming to stand in front of the table with her hands clasped behind her back. </p><p>Roderick turns on her with a snarl, scowling when he recognizes the rest of the intruders.  He points imperiously to the guards.  “You, chain them, now!  I want them prepared for travel to the capital for trial!”</p><p>“By all means,” Trevelyan rumbles, settling against the wall in a corner of the room, “Imprison them.  The sooner we sort out this mess, the sooner I can return home.”</p><p>The Chancellor glares at the younger man.  “You are just as guilty in this.  Do not think you are exempt from my order because of who you are!”  Roderick hisses.  Trevelyan stiffens when the Chancellor jabs a finger in his direction.  “You will be tried with the rest of them!  Guards!”   </p><p>The guards take a hesitant step forward, looking to Cassandra.  The Seeker sighs heavily.  “Disregard that, and leave us.”</p><p>The soldiers offer a relieved salute, before stepping out of the chamber and closing the door firmly behind them. </p><p>“You walk a dangerous line, <em>Seeker,”</em> Roderick says lowly.</p><p>“The Breach is stable,” Cassandra grits out, “but it is still a <em>threat.  </em>I will not ignore it.  You would send away our best hope at dealing with the Breach?  I cannot allow it!”</p><p>“They accomplished <em>nothing, </em>Seeker, the Breach – “</p><p>“We did what we could,” Adaar interjects mildly before the argument can cycle back again.  “Even if it wasn’t everything we hoped for.”</p><p>“Adaar and Lavellan accomplished much, Chancellor, given the impossibility of their task,” Cadash adds.  “At great cost to themselves.”</p><p>Chancellor Roderick sneers at the dwarf.  “And yet they live, and all of you are here now.  How <em>convenient.</em>”</p><p>Cassandra frowns.  “Have a care, Chancellor.  They are beyond suspicion, and we may need the support of all of them very soon.  The Breach is not the only threat we face.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Leliana says, stepping forward to examine the Chancellor, “there are likely more threats than we now realize.  Someone is behind this:  The Breach, the attack on the Conclave, the death of the Divine.  Perhaps they too died in the explosion; perhaps they have conspirators who yet live.”  She gives him a sharp look from under her hood.  “Or maybe they weren’t at the Conclave at all.  This attack required a great deal of planning and inside information to pull off without tipping off my agents.”</p><p>The Chancellor reels back.  “<em>I </em>am a suspect?”  He splutters.</p><p>Leliana leans upward, eyes hard.  “You.  And many others.”</p><p>“Not to distract from the conversation, but how exactly are they ‘beyond suspicion?’”  Trevelyan asks, crossing his arms.</p><p>“<em>They?”  </em>Leliana asks, abruptly directing her attention to the young man.  He shifts uncomfortably under her gaze.  “Yes, Maxwell Trevelyan, lets discuss ‘them.’”</p><p>She gestures brusquely towards Cadash, still staring at Trevelyan.  “Malika Cadash, daughter of prominent Carta lieutenants with ties to the Free Marches and Orlais.  Sent to spy on the peace talks by her House, she entered the Conclave with a forged invitation that, I was told, was an excellent replica of the authentic document.”</p><p>Cadash smiles.  “My brother’s work, spymaster.  He was quite upset when I was sent to the Conclave instead of him, but he will be pleased to know how exceptional the counterfeit was.”</p><p>Leliana nods.  “Her motives are clear, and my agents were expecting her attendance.  Thus, she is not suspect.”</p><p>Adaar stands straighter when Leliana points to him next.  “Kaaras Addar, son of a respected mercenary and a baker.  He has never lived under the Qun, and as a second-generation member of the Valo-Kas he rose quickly to captaincy.  When the Valo-Kas were hired to police the Conclave his company was specifically requested:  Having a mage in charge of security was meant to mollify the apostates.”</p><p>Adaar grimaces.  “Just Adaar is fine.  ‘Kaaras’ is something I chose when I was very young, it was not really a name I intended to use,” he says apologetically. </p><p>“Just Adaar, then,” Leliana continues without blinking.  “Before he was hired my agents acquired records of the Valo-Kas going back over 30 years.  He, and his mother, are present in many of them.  He too is not suspect.”</p><p>“And you,” Leliana turns to face Lavellan, who is lurking unobtrusively behind Adaar, “I knew Lavellan was one of the Clans sending a spy, but I was not aware you had arrived at the Temple.  How did you get into the Conclave?”</p><p>Lavellan shrugs.  “The east tower was under construction.  I climbed in through the window.”</p><p>Leliana’s eyes glitter.  “I had agents watching that tower.”</p><p>“I know,” Lavellan smirks, “I saw them.”</p><p>“Interesting,” Leliana murmurs.  She sounds pleased, though Adaar can’t imagine why.  “And I’m afraid I do not know your name.”</p><p>“Lavellan,” Lavellan replies instantly.  Her facial expression doesn’t change, but Adaar’s pretty sure she’s also amused.</p><p>“Hm.”  Leliana stares at the elf for a moment longer before smiling.  “Regardless, I was aware of the Dalish spies, and Clan Lavellan has always been peaceful.  I do not suspect her of foul play.”</p><p>The spymaster’s face closes off again, and she whirls back to Trevelyan.  “So now we have discussed ‘them.’  Let us turn our conversation to <em>you, </em>who I certainly had more reasons to be suspicious of.”</p><p>Trevelyan tenses.  “More reason?  What are you – “</p><p>“Maxwell Trevelyan,” Leliana cuts in, “second son of Lord Alexander Trevelyan.  Sent from his family home in Ostwick to live with his uncle outside Denerim at the age of 15.  You’ve spent almost six years with his household, leaving only when he does.  That is, until the Conclave.”</p><p>“I received a letter several weeks ago stating that Lord Trevelyan was sending his brother to represent his house at the Conclave.  But Alec Trevelyan never came to the Temple of Sacred Ashes.  He sent you in his stead, without confirming the change of plans with your father first.  With all the subterfuge involved in your arrival, you must understand my wariness.”</p><p>Trevelyan pushes himself off the wall.  “I – “</p><p>“I had my agents look into you immediately after you arrived, of course,” Leliana forges on, “They were not able to provide me with much concrete information.  It appears there was an incident with the Templar Order when you were 13 that your father did not approve of.  Your family is very secretive about its personal dealings, especially when it comes to scandals, but – “</p><p>“Enough!”  Trevelyan barks.  His shoulders have hunched in on themselves, and he is glaring at a spot over Leliana’s shoulder.  “You’ve made your point,” he adds quietly. </p><p>Chancellor Roderick snorts.  “She certainly has not!  All your ‘evidence’ of their supposed innocence is worthless, Nightingale.  For the right price any of them could be corrupted, even if everything you say is true.  Their guilt is not for you to decide!”</p><p>Cassandra gestures furiously towards Adaar.  “I heard the Divine call to him – “</p><p>“Coincidence,” Roderick dismisses, “Pure circumstance – “</p><p>“Providence!  The Maker sent them in our darkest hour – “</p><p>Lavellan steps towards the table, frowning.  “We’re not your chosen ones.”</p><p>Trevelyan snorts, settling back into his corner.  “She has a point,” he mutters.  “Look at us.  Spies, mercenaries, and exiles all.”</p><p>Adaar leans against the table with a sigh.  “I have to agree with them, Seeker.  I don’t believe any of us were<em> chosen </em>for anything.  With the exception, perhaps, of Trevelyan – “ the young warrior shakes his head in a negative, “ – none of us are even Andrastian.”</p><p>“I have not forgotten,” Cassandra says drily.  “No matter what you are, you were what we needed, when we needed it.”  She turns back to the Chancellor and settles her stance mulishly.  “The Breach needs closing, and I will not see the only people capable of doing it imprisoned for some farce of a trial!”</p><p>“That is not for you to decide – “</p><p>Cassandra storms past the spluttering Chancellor to a candle-lit bench at the edge of the room.  She grabs something from its surface, before marching back and slamming it on the table in front of Roderick.</p><p>“You know what this is,” she begins, pointing aggressively at the ornate book she had deposited, “It gives us the authority to act.  We are rebuilding the Inquisition - with or without your approval.  There is no argument you can make that will change my mind.”</p><p>Chancellor Roderick glares at the book.  Adaar leans a little further over the table, trying to get a better look at the cover.  <em>What’s so important about this book, that it drove him to silence when nothing else could?  </em>Finally, the Chancellor snarls, turning away.  His robes whip around him as he storms out of the room.</p><p>“This book . . .” Cadash asks, standing on her toes to see over the table, “what manner of book is it?  It must be important, for that pompous fool to shut up.” </p><p>“This is the Divine’s directive,” Leliana intones, a faraway look on her face, “To reform the Inquisition of old.”  She looks at each of them in turn, eyes serious.  “We have nothing:  No Chantry support, limited supplies, and barely enough soldiers to call and army.”</p><p>“But we have no choice,” Cassandra continues for her.  She walks around the table to stand in front of Cadash.  “We must act now, if we are to prevail.  With you at our side.”</p><p>“Why should I help you?” Lavellan asks sharply.  Cassandra sighs, a sentiment Adaar finds himself echoing.  <em>Lavellan, please . . . </em>“This is a shemlen matter.  What do I, or my clan, have to gain from joining your Inquisition?”</p><p>“I don’t think the rifts care that you’re Dalish, dear,” Cadash answers wryly. </p><p>“If the Breach is not closed, everyone is at risk.”  Leliana leans over the table.  “We need you, Lavellan.  You know we do.”</p><p>“This Inquisition will be acting in direct opposition of the Chantry.  House Trevelyan will not support this,” Trevelyan mutters.  “I cannot go against the will of my House.”</p><p>Cadash rolls her eyes.  “Oh, please – “</p><p>“You are trying to restore order?”  Adaar interrupts. </p><p>Leliana nods.  “That is the plan.”</p><p>“Help us fix this,” Cassandra adds, “before it is too late.”</p><p>Adaar looks down at his marked hand.  The burning glow it had held before now shimmers faintly in his palm with only the slightest twinge of warmth.  <em>Fuck.  I hope I’m making the right choice.</em></p><p>“I don’t know how we came to be marked, or what caused any of this to happen,” Adaar begins slowly.  “If the purpose of this Inquisition is to bring peace as you say, then I will do whatever is in my power to help you.”  He huffs a laugh.  “I wouldn’t mind getting some questions answered along the way, but yes.  I’m with you, Cassandra.”</p><p>“As am I.”  Cadash offers Cassandra a short bow.  “Whatever you need Seeker, Spymaster, you have but to ask.” </p><p>Lavellan sighs, “I will stay to see the Breach closed, but no further.  Until then, you will have my aid.” </p><p>“Trevelyan?”  Addar prompts gently.</p><p>The human scrubs a hand across his eyes.  “This is a terrible fucking idea.  You have no Chantry support!  No army!  What the fuck do you think this Inquisition will accomplish?”  Trevelyan pushes off the wall and paces across the chamber, eyes focused far away.  “This is a terrible fucking idea,” he whispers again. </p><p>Trevelyan whirls to face Cassandra.  “No.  I won’t join you,” he grits out.  Adaar’s heart starts to sink.  <em>Damn it, man, they need all of us!  </em>“But,” Trevelyan continues, raising a hand to forestall any arguments, “I will stay.  For now.”  He chuckles hollowly.  “If you can find a way to close the Breach before this idiocy falls apart, I’d be damn well pleased to help.”</p><p>The Seeker looks at each of them in turn.  “Good.” </p><p>Leliana nods.  “It will not be easy, but we can work with this.” </p><p>Cassandra smiles viciously.  “We will see it done.  Spread the word, Leliana.  I declare the Inquisition reborn!”   </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm trying really hard to finish this work, but med school gets in the way a lot.  Chapter 5 will be up eventually, I think from Trevelyan's perspective this time!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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